


Bound Together

by Slow_Burn_Sally



Category: Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell & Related Fandoms, Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell (TV), Jonathan Strange & Mr Norrell - Susanna Clarke
Genre: Accidental Marriage, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Fae & Fairies, Jealous Childermass, M/M, Maybe Some Sex Pollen, Misunderstandings, Protective Childermass, Slow Burn, Spells & Enchantments, Started out Mature and Ended Up Explicit, Trope Salad With a Side of Tropes, Utterly Clueless Segundus
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-29
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 40,385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25589605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slow_Burn_Sally/pseuds/Slow_Burn_Sally
Summary: Honeyfoot's two nieces are abducted by fairies and Childermass and Segundus are enlisted to go and rescue them, only one of them doesn't really feel like being rescued.I wanted to play with an enemies to lovers vibe here that isn't a thing in the book but is heavily implied in the show. I just love it OK.Middle aged men, tromping about in a fairy wood, getting to know one another and pining.Thank you emilycare my steadfast beta reader and plot-helper. Your ideas are fantastic and they drove this fic forward in a huge way. <3
Relationships: John Childermass/John Segundus
Comments: 53
Kudos: 35





	1. Chapter 1

The rapid knocking upon his bedroom door came at such a late hour that Mr. Segundus knew instantly that it must pertain to some sort of dire emergency. It was half past eleven in the evening, and no one had ever knocked upon his door at this time of night. What’s more, very few people were even awake at half past eleven, unless of course it was Childermass and Vinculus, returning from one of their many trips about the countryside. And even then, they came in as quietly as they could manage, with Childermass stabling Brewer and Vinculus perhaps rummaging around in the larder for something to eat. 

Segundus, who often stayed up into the early morning hours reading, pulled a dressing gown over his nightdress and put a pair of slippers upon his feet before lifting the latch and opening his door.

He was quite surprised to see Mr. Honeyfoot on the other side of it. Honeyfoot had been spending most of the past fortnight in High Petergate to attend to his two nieces, who were visiting from London. He’d brought them to Starecross on a few occasions, as the younger of the two, Cecilia had an avid interest in magic, but preferred to spend most of his time with them at home with Mrs. Honeyfoot. The couple doted on their nieces and wished them to be comfortable during their stay, and Starecross was too cramped with students and instructors to be suitable as a place for two young ladies to sleep. 

And yet, here he was, at half past eleven in the evening, knocking on the door, breathless, face ruddier than usual. Honeyfoot’s eyes as they peered up at Segundus, were full of a deep anguish that Segundus had never before seen in his friend, who was usually the picture of good cheer.

“Mr. Segundus! Oh thank goodness! I am so glad you are awake! I must speak with you and with Mr. Childermass and the other instructors as soon as possible!” 

“Mr. Honeyfoot, what seems to be the matter?” Segundus stepped out to join him in the hall. “Why you look quite flustered and upset. What has happened? Is it your family? I trust Mrs. Honeyfoot and your daughters are not harmed?” Segundus took Honeyfoot by the elbow and steered him toward the stairs down to the kitchen. Honeyfoot let himself be led but he implored Segundus to please wake the other magicians before he would let Segundus make him any tea or see to his comfort.

“Once they are all gathered, I shall tell you why I have come in such a hurry, but only then, for it is too horrible for me to keep repeating it.”

Mr. Segundus, now thoroughly alarmed, rushed to do what Honeyfoot had so urgently asked. He went first to wake Hadley-Bright, Purfois and Levi, preferring to knock upon those gentleman’s doors, to put off having to wake Childermass for as long as possible. That strange man in his ragged, black clothes with his ragged dark hair and piercing eyes was quite intimidating to a person such as John Segundus, who was all politeness and gentleness. Eventually though, when he had roused the other men, stumbling and a little bleary eyed from their beds, he went to Childermass’ door, to the room he shared with Vinculus. 

Imagine Segundus’ surprise however, when he had naught but raised his fist to knock upon Childermass’ door, when the door swung open and revealed Childermass himself, fully dressed and waiting for him. “I hear quite a commotion going on in the halls,” the stoic, brooding man said when Segundus regarded him with wide eyed surprise. “Is there something the matter?”

“Why yes Mr. Childermass, apparently there is,” Segundus replied, a touch unsteadily, for he had been quite prepared to wait for Childermass to get slowly out of bed to answer his knocking, and here the man was, fully awake, without him having to knock at all. “Mr. Honeyfoot has had a terrible fright and he begs that you join us, myself and the other magicians in the kitchen so that he may relay what it is that has him so very upset.” 

“Aye,” Childermass replied, stepping out into the hall and indicating that Segundus should lead the way with a small nod of his head in the direction of the stairwell. That was apparently all he wished to say, so Segundus turned and led them both downstairs to the kitchen. Segundus now felt a little out of place, being that he was in his robe and slippers and Childermass was fully dressed in jacket and waistcoat. He had even had time to don his boots. Perhaps he had not been asleep at all? This seemed to make the most sense to Segundus. Perhaps the man did not sleep. He certainly seemed to show a lack of many other human characteristics, such as fear, joy and curiosity. He was a creature of mysterious motives. He spoke yes, but when he did, it was usually to point out a detail that someone else had missed, or to make a wry observation about something no one else would have thought to remark upon. He was a strange character indeed, and though Segundus had hoped to get to know him a little better in the months since Strange and Norrell had disappeared, he had not learned much at all of Childermass’ character. 

All he knew now, after months of inconsistent exposure to the man who had once worked for Gilbert Norrell, was that (despite past attempts at obstructing its creation) he was now an active supporter of the Starecross School of Magic, and that he did not take cream in his coffee, but did take it in his tea. 

They made their way quickly to the kitchen, where the other magicians were gathered at the kitchen table, looking uncertain, and not without a good deal of concern at a very distressed Mr. Honeyfoot. Soon they were all together and all eyes were on Honeyfoot. He took a deep breath and began to speak.

“As you may know, I have been absent from the school for some weeks because my dear nieces, Rosalind and Cecilia Brookhaven are visiting from London.” Here, he paused as if overcome with strong emotion. Segundus’ heart ached to see his friend so upset, but he waited patiently for Mr. Honeyfoot to continue. 

“Just yesterday morning, my nieces expressed a desire to take a trip to the countryside north of York. They had spent the majority of their lives in London society and in and around the mad hustle and bustle of London’s carriages and shoppes, and they wished to spend some peaceful and quiet time in the country. They put together a basket of things to eat and took my post-chaise to travel northeast, toward Flaxton. Myself and Mrs. Honeyfoot of course wanted to accompany them, but they are young women of a somewhat capricious nature, at least Cecilia is, and so they insisted that they wished to go by themselves. You know how young women are sometimes, not wanting their old aunt and uncle tagging along after them when they wish to pretend they are on some grand adventure…”

“Perhaps sir,” Childermass spoke up in his low rumble from the corner of the room, “this tale would be helped along by arriving at the point sooner than later?”

Honeyfoot nodded, for he knew just as they all did that he had a tendency to grow verbose when his emotions were aroused. “Yes, yes of course Mr. Childermass. The long and short of it sirs is that my nieces embarked for Flaxton at seven o’clock in the morning yesterday. It was supposed to have been a day trip, and we expected them back well before sundown. They have not returned.”

“Oh no! Mr. Honeyfoot! How horrible!” Segundus realized he was clutching the top of his nightdress in his fist as he heard his friend tell of the nieces’ disappearance. “Have you gone in search of them?”

“It is the very first thing we did! Myself and our servant Joshua rode out on Strensall Road north of the city, for that is the route they planned to take. We were not a mile outside of Flaxton when we saw the post-chaise abandoned by the side of the road, and a blanket spread out on a nearby hill, as if for a picnic. But the ladies were nowhere to be seen.” His voice nearly broke on the last words. 

Segundus felt his blood run cold in his veins as he contemplated all the horrible outcomes to this tale. 

“I should never have let them go out on their own!” Honeyfoot had put his head in his hands and sounded close to tears.

“Sir,” Childermass spoke up again, for he seemed to be the only person in attendance with something to say. “Was there anything else of importance about the scene that you can tell us.”

“Yes, of course, thank you Childermass. I had nearly forgotten in my worry,” Honeyfoot seemed to pull himself together. “I am not so good as Mr. Segundus or Mr. Childermass at sensing when magic has been done, but I do believe the carriage had something of the feel of magic about it. I fear that perhaps there may be fairies involved somehow, for the magic I sensed was of a wild sort. I fear perhaps the ladies were abducted.” 

Segundus looked up at Childermass and found the other man’s dark eyes on him. They exchanged a knowing glance. “Mr. Honeyfoot sir,” Childermass said, his voice cautious, his eyes lingering on Segundus’ face for a moment before moving to the older man. “Might you be telling us that there could be a fairy road up Flaxton way? If so, it is imperative that we go in search of them at once.”

“Yes! Yes Mr. Childermass. I came here to ask you to do that very thing. Yourself and perhaps Mr. Segundus.” He looked hopefully back and forth between the two. 

Segundus was surprised. “Why would you require my help in particular?” He asked, fighting the urge to step back and perhaps hide behind someone else. “Would it not be more prudent to send Hadley-Bright, for his facility at magical spells far surpasses my own…”

Honeyfoot shook his head. “No offense meant to Mr. Hadley-Bright, or any of the other instructors sir, but you Mr. Segundus, have the best sense of direction. I know of no one else who may tell north from south from east from west, even when among the lands of Faerie. And, whatsmore, you have a highly tuned sense of when magic is being done and of the size and shape of it.”

“This is true,” Segundus admitted. “But Mr. Honeyfoot, my sensing of magic is usually accompanied by a fainting spell or a bout of sickness. If the magic is strong enough, I can lose my senses and fall over. I do not see this as a good quality to have on a quest to find abducted ladies.” He did not love drawing attention to such unsatisfactory qualities in his nature, but these were desperate times and he felt Honeyfoot needed to be reminded that he was no dashing hero. Rather he was a pale, slight man of middling years who had the frustrating tendency to grow faint and sick around the one thing he loved more than anything else in the world. It was his personal cross to bear. 

“And that is why you shall not go alone. You shall accompany Mr. Childermass. He may watch to make sure you do not succumb to your faintness, and you may alert him to magical dangers and lead the two of you in and out of the fairy road without incident.” 

“He speaks the truth sir,” This from Childermass again. “I’ve not met another man with a sense of direction as keenly honed as yours, nor who can sense the particulars of magic being done with such accuracy. You are as a compass where magic is concerned, and you shall lead us safely home once we have found Honeyfoot’s nieces.” 

Segundus nodded miserably. It was not that he was afraid. Well, it was not that he was  _ only _ afraid, for he did feel a thrill of fear lick unpleasantly at his insides when thinking of traveling down a fairy road (if that was indeed where the young ladies had gone). It was more that he felt so very inadequate to the task. What if he should grow faint at an inopportune time? He was passably talented at magic, the smaller spells that did not make him feel as if he were punched in the gut or as if his head was stuffed with wool. But Childermass far outstripped him in magical talent. “Would not a more accomplished magician, such as Mr. Purfois or Mr. Hadley-Bright be a safer choice?” Segundus offered up cautiously. “I am adequate, but far less talented than they when it comes to the execution of magic.”

“I would be more than willing to go in his stead,” said Hadley-Bright, his brow furrowed in worry. If memory served, he had taken quite a shine to the elder Miss Brookhaven, Rosalind.

“I thank you sir,” Honeyfoot shook his head at Hadley-Bright. “I believe however that Childermass has the truth of it. It would be best if he and Mr. Segundus were to go.” Honeyfoot stood and placed a warm hand on Segundus’ shoulder. “Your skills are just the sort to help the both of you to find my nieces. Hadley-Bright, Levi and Purfois will stay here and see to the running of the school. I know it is quite a large task I have brought to you, and at so late an hour, but I am an old man with a pain in my knee and poor eyesight. I am ill suited to join in this quest and will only slow you down. Will you please help me find my dear nieces?” He looked up at Segundus with eyes so full of worry tinged hope that Segundus could not refuse him.

“Of course I shall,” he replied, sending up a silent prayer that he was not volunteering to lose his life on a mad quest with a strange, dark man into the lands of Faerie. 

As if on cue, the dark man in question spoke up again. “Have you anything of a personal nature of either girl on your person Mr. Honeyfoot?” Childermass asked. “If so, we could cast a finding spell upon it and it would help us see which direction they may have gone. It would serve as a useful beacon.”

Honeyfoot shook his head. “Alas, I do not. Though I see now that such a thing would give us a great advantage in this endeavor.” The hope that had bloomed in his face moments before now faded into worry yet again.

Hadley-Bright cleared his throat. “Ehem. Sirs. I believe I may be of assistance.” He left the room momentarily and returned shortly with something in his hand that he extended to Honeyfoot. It was a gold locket, in the shape of a heart.

“Why, that is Rosalind’s locket!” Honeyfoot reached out and plucked the gold necklace from Hadley-Bright’s palm with a confused tone to his voice. “How on earth…”

“She gave it to me sir.” Hadley-Bright’s face had gone pink and he looked quite sheepish all of a sudden. “She and I, well, we have developed something of a tender regard for one another. I have been a complete gentleman!” He rushed to add as he saw Honeyfoot’s eyes narrow somewhat upon hearing his confession. “It is just that we are fond of one another and she asked me to have this locket as a keepsake. This is one reason I wish to go along. I am very frightened for her safety.”

“Thank you Hadley-Bright. I am grateful that you are able to provide this personal item to aid in our search. And considering that you have taken a shine to my Rosalind, perhaps you should accompany Childermass and Segundus on their mission-” Honeyfoot was cut off by Childermass, who spoke up yet again.

“Begging Mr. Hadley-Bright’s and Mr. Honeyfoot’s pardon. Sirs, I do not think it is prudent to send a lovesick romeo on a mission to rescue his sweetheart. Such tender feelings usually make for rash actions and dangerous impulses on a quest such as this.” 

All eyes turned in Childermass’ direction, for his words were quite blunt. 

“Mr. Childermass sir, I do not think that-” Honeyfoot sounded affronted. 

“Please sir, believe me,” Childermass interjected yet again. “It is far better to send two confirmed bachelors of middle age on such a journey, rather than a hot blooded young man with love in his heart. It will only cause trouble.” 

“I’ll have you know sir, that I am not at all ‘ _ hot blooded _ ’ as you claim!” exclaimed Hadley-Bright in a way that did not plead his case well for level headedness. 

“Calm yourself Mr. Hadley-Bright.” Honeyfoot made placating motions with his hands. “You have provided us with a very valuable tool with this locket, and I am sure that Childermass speaks the truth. He and Segundus also have the benefit of having been in close association with fairy magic before. For was it not the two of them who broke Lady Pole’s enchantment? Do not feel insulted. They shall bring Rosalind back safe and unharmed, and if it is your wish to court her, then by all means, I shall write to my sister and her husband in London and inform them of your intentions and recommend you with the highest praise.”

This seemed to somewhat mollify Hadley-Bright, despite the fact that he shot quite a dark glare in Childermass’ direction and looked very put out indeed. 

Next, Childermass did the magic to link Rosalind’s locket to the signature of her essence so that it would glow brightly as they grew nearer to her form and dim if they traveled farther away. 

There was no time to waste, and so Segundus hurried upstairs to dress and pack a few things he’d need. A book or two from the library, his tinder box, spare quills and a well stoppered bottle of ink and his cloak. It was springtime, and the weather was temperate, but a cloak could double as a pillow or a blanket, and weather in the lands of Faerie were unpredictable and often incongruous with English weather. The ride to Strensall Road was a longish one, perhaps two or three hours by horseback, and it was already past midnight, but they could not take time for sleeping. 

He had an ivory handled pen knife that he kept in a drawer in his bedside table. He had never had occasion to use it for anything more than opening letters or paring apples, and yet, after a moment or two of hesitation, he added it to his leather travel satchel. Who knew what would await them along this journey? It would be prudent to bring some form of protection. 

He wondered how Childermass felt about this sudden trip, and how he might feel about having to bring Segundus along with him. He had certainly lobbied passionately to have him included. Perhaps the thought of traveling alone with Segundus was not as irksome as Segundus imagined to a man of such prodigious magical talents as John Childermass? Segundus hoped so. 

The man was so blasted hard to read. His thoughts and motives seemed impossibly hidden behind his fall of dark hair and his near-black eyes, eyes that were darker even than Segundus’ own. It was rumored by the kitchen staff that he had gypsie blood in his heritage, and that his mother had been a woman of ill repute, named Black Joan, and that she had probably been a witch. There were even some of the younger students who’d concocted a rumor that Childermass might be a descendent of the Raven King himself, for he had about him an air of such inscrutable mystery. 

He had lived as a pickpocket in the years before he began working for Norrell and had done many a dangerous and disreputable thing at Norrell’s bidding. It was these acts, the closing of the Starecross School for Magic, the intimidation of other magicians and the acquisition of their books and ruination of their livelihoods that had Segundus teetering on the edge of resentment where Childermass was concerned. And yet...and yet still, he was unaccountably fascinated by his mysterious would-be travel companion. There was something wild and unruly about Childermass in a strangely appealing way. Spending time in his company made one feel as if one had stepped into a fairy tale and that unusual and exciting things might be just about to transpire. 

Segundus dismissed thoughts of Childermass with a shake of his head as he hurried back downstairs to find Honeyfoot. His friend had, in the meantime, fixed him and Childermass some food for their journey. He handed Segundus a satchel that he said contained some apples, a hunk of cheese, a few loaves of the cook’s bread and a jar of preserved peaches. It was the best he could do at short notice, and he prayed that they would return long before such provisions wore out. 

Segundus thanked him with a warm squeeze to his shoulder. “I am certain that we shall find your nieces and bring them safety home,” he said, hoping that the great well of doubt and fear inside him did not shew too plainly upon his features. 

“I pray you are correct sir,” Honeyfoot responded. “I wish you and Mr. Childermass a swift and safe journey. I shall return home tomorrow to High Petergate to keep my wife and daughters company in this trying time. I hope that if you require anything, you shall find a way, by magic or by courier to send word. Godspeed my friend.” 

With that, he retired to his room in Starecross. Segundus wished him a goodnight and then went in search of Childermass.

He found the other man in the stable, saddling Brewer. “I am ready to embark when you are sir,” Segundus said by way of alerting Childermass to his presence. Childermass turned and shot him a quick look before tightening the cinch of Brewer’s saddle. 

“I shall be ready in only a moment,” he replied, straightening Brewer’s stirrups and giving the horse an affectionate pat on the shoulder. 

“Do you think it likely that the ladies have been abducted?” Segundus asked, for he had nothing else to say and felt out of place. It was not often that he and Childermass were alone together, and he felt the need to fill up the silence with chatter.

“Certainly I do,” Childermass replied. “If they are as fair and as clever as the rest of the Honeyfoot women, then they would be very tempting for some fairy lord to steal them away. Or, if not an abduction, it could be quite likely that they wandered onto a fairy road and did not know how to make their way back out, and are now lost.” Here he paused for a moment, as if considering the wisdom of what he was about to say next. “I know that Honeyfoot has only the best of intentions, but he should not have let them go off alone. The Yorkshire countryside is riddled with old fairy roads and brigands and other dangers. Two city girls should have had a chaperone with them.”

Segundus knew the truth in what Childermass said, but he still hated to hear his dear, kind friend criticized. “He was only playing the part of an indulgent uncle. He likely thought they were better suited for a country jaunt than they were,” he said, knowing his defense was not very convincing. 

“Be that as it may, we are now tasked with correcting his lapse, and I hope no harm shall come to any of us in the execution of such a task.” Childermass put his large, battered black hat upon his head and busied himself with strapping his saddle bags to Brewer. 

Segundus, feeling strangely as if Childermass had called his own judgment into question, rather than Honeyfoot’s, and not wishing to stand there and stare at the other man’s back, went to tend to his horse, Absalom. She was a dun coloured mare with a dark mane. Small yet sturdy, with a sweet disposition. It took only a few moments to saddle her and secure his own saddle bags before he mounted up and joined Childermass at the start of the lane that led away from Starecross and out onto the moors. 

They rode in silence for the majority of the trip. Childermass was certainly not one for idle chatter, and Segundus, having not yet slept, found the silence a sort of soporific, and began dosing a little in his saddle. He did so to the point where he was woken from one such lapse by a strong hand upon his shoulder. He jerked awake to see Childermass’ dark shape against the early morning stars, outlined by the silver glint of the moon. “Be careful sir,” the other man mumbled. “It will not do to have you fall and break a limb before we have even gotten started.”

Segundus, ashamed for his lapse so early in the journey, shook himself away from Childermass’ steadying hand and huffed irritably. “You need not concern yourself with me, Mr. Childermass. I shall not slow you down. I am only tired is all. I was awake when Honeyfoot arrived and so have not yet slept.”

Childermass shrugged. “We can bed down for an hour or two once we reach the place of the ladies’ disappearance,” he said, his voice growing a touch warmer as he rode on. “It is dangerous to investigate a fairy road on no sleep at all.” 

Segundus wanted to say that he didn’t need to sleep, that if Childermass was alert and awake, then he himself would remain so as well, but in his heart he knew that he would be a fool to embark upon this risky journey with muddled senses. Instead he kept his mouth shut and glared sullenly at Childermass’ back as he and Brewer took the lead on the darkened road. There was just enough light from the gleaming half-moon above to see by, which was a blessing, for if it had been pitch dark, they would have had to wait until morning to travel to Strensall Road. 

They reached the road in what felt to be about two hours time, and travelled north for a long spell, passing only the occasional carriage or man on horseback out running some late night errand or traveling to and from York. Eventually, they reached the spot where the ladies had disappeared. Honeyfoot had had the wherewithal to leave their picnic blanket on the ground, and it was only a few yards from the road and glowed white in the darkness, making it very easy to spot. Segundus and Childermass rode to it and dismounted. Childermass mumbled something unintelligible and Segundus felt a hazy tingling behind his eyes and then a light bloomed in the palm of Childermass’ outstretched hand. He raised his hand above his head, using the magical ball of light as a lantern and the two men looked around the picnic site with apprehensive curiosity. Nothing of much note could be observed. Interestingly, the picnic basket was nowhere to be seen. The ladies must have taken it with them when they’d left the grassy patch where they’d laid out their blanket. About forty paces away, the forest rose, black and foreboding, and barely distinguishable from the surrounding darkness of the early morning hour. 

“We shall make a fire and wait here for dawn to break,” Childermass said, moving away, presumably to gather sticks and twigs. Segundus cast his own spell, conjuring his own bundle of glimmering light and went to do the same. Soon they had gathered a respectable pile of twigs and small branches, which Segundus obligingly lit using his tinder box. Childermass settled down on one side of the fire and Segundus sat on the other. 

“You should try and get some sleep,” Childermass remarked, his eyes beneath the brim of his hat gleaming in the firelight. “I can stay awake and keep watch.” 

Segundus again felt a flash of irritation at being told to do something, mixing with a small twinge of shame over needing sleep at all, while Childermass, always so in possession of his faculties, was strong enough to stay awake and guard them. But at this time, after a busy day of teaching the students and a long and fretful ride from Starecross, he was quite exhausted. He lay on his side, bundling his cloak for a pillow and swiftly dropped into a light sleep. 

He was awoken by a hand shaking him gently by the shoulder and peered up into Childermass’ face, hovering above his own, lit by grey, predawn light. “The sun is almost up,” Childermass said. “It is time to go, Mr. Segundus.”

Segundus struggled to a sitting position and started slightly as a tin cup full of water was thrust gently into his hands. “Oh, thank you,” he murmured, grateful for the drink as he was feeling very groggy. 

Childermass busied himself with straightening his saddle bags, pulling out a few mysterious objects and putting them in his pockets as Segundus took sips of water and blinked the sleep from his eyes. “There is indeed a fairy road nearby,” Childermass said, his back to Segundus as he prepared Brewer for the journey. 

“I can feel it,” Segundus agreed. When he closed his eyes, the magic appeared to him as shining blue-green lines of bright light, running together and coalescing in a gleaming point at the edge of the forest. 

“I can as well,” Childermass nodded, agreeing. “Though my senses are not as finely tuned as yours sir. We will rely heavily on your ability to feel magic once we’ve gone past the threshold and into Faerie. I can feel it as a general sense, a pulsing power that surrounds us, but I cannot feel its specific locations, its movements the way you can sir. With some luck, between the two of us, we will navigate our way safely in and then out again with the ladies.”

Segundus nodded, secretly quite pleased at having Childermass acknowledge his skills. He clambered to his feet, dousing the fire with the dregs of his water and kicking dirt over the hissing coals to snuff it out. He mounted Absalom and Childermass mounted Brewer. “Lead the way sir,” Childermass said, with a nod, indicating that Segundus should go first. Segundus took a moment to look at the edge of the forest, which at this time, appeared like a large, dark wall of tall trees, with naught but black shadows under their lowermost branches. He closed his eyes and clearly saw the gleaming strands of fairy magic collecting together into a glowing spot at the forest’s edge. “The entrance is there, several yards to our left,” he replied and gently kneed Absalom into a walk toward where he had indicated. Childermass and Brewer followed after. 

Segundus felt the fairy magic grow stronger the closer they moved to the forest edge. Soon, it went from a faint buzzing behind his eyes, to a cacophony of tingles and shivers that throbbed in his ears and spilled down his spine. He gasped and bent over his saddle pommel a little, squeezing his eyes closed against the riot of noise and vibration. 

In the space of only a few breaths, he felt the pressure suddenly ease and felt the solid presence of Childermass upon Brewer walk up beside him. “This should make it easier to bear,” he heard Childermass’ low, rumbling voice, and knew that the man had done some magic, a way to shield Segundus against the clamor of sensation coming from the entrance to the fairy road. 

Segundus blinked, taking a deep breath and straightening again as the feelings subsided from an all consuming racket to a manageable hum. “Thank you,” he said, blinking his eyes open and giving Childermass a small, sheepish grin. “It has been some time since I have been near this much magic. It can become quite overwhelming.”

“I shall teach the spell when we stop to rest, so that you may cast it yourself next time,” Childermass said. The two of them waited for a few moments while Segundus gathered himself together and then they proceeded toward the forest edge again.

Soon they were riding through the first of the long shadows just before the entrance to the path. “Wait, Mr. Segundus sir,” Childermass pulled up beside Segundus again and gave him one end of a long length of ratty rope. “Hold tight to this, or tie it to your saddle in some fashion,” he said. “We cannot become separated while on the fairy road. It would be best if we were tethered to one another. Also…” and he paused to fish in his pocket for a moment before handing Segundus a small golden heart pendant on a delicate chain. “Hold onto this,” he instructed. “It is the lady Rosalind’s necklace, and it will glow more brightly as we grow nearer to her.” 

Segundus nodded and looped the necklace around one wrist so as not to lose it. He then dutifully tied one end of the rope Childermass had given him to the top of his stirrup leather on Childermass’ side. Thus connected, they spurred their horses under the trees and onto the fairy road. 


	2. Chapter 2

The bedchamber was a lush one, with heavy silken drapes around a large, four poster bed and a lovely little vanity, complete with a gilded mirror and all the powders and ointments any lady could wish for. 

This did not reassure Rosalind Brookhaven in the slightest. The familiarness of the lovely bedchamber did nothing to disguise the decidedly unfamiliar and disturbing undertones of fairy otherworldliness that threaded their way through everything in this place. 

Cecilia did not seem to mind at all. She was quite happily brushing her hair out and exclaiming over the little vials of perfume upon the vanity as if she had just been shewed to a room in St. James’s Palace. But then, Cecilia delighted in the idea of magic and fairies, and her fascination was the reason they found themselves in their current predicament. 

Rosalind had been very resistant to visiting the Starcross school for magic. She loved her uncle dearly, and knew that he valued magic as one of the most important things in his life, but Rosalind, a highly practical woman of twenty (while Cecilia was a particularly childish eighteen) found magic unsettling. That was until she met William Hadley-Bright of course. My what a handsome gentleman he was. And so knowledgeable! He’d showed her charming little magical tricks that made flashes of light appear and disappear like fireflies, and made roses bloom from holly bushes, plucking the choicest ones and offering them to her in a bouquet. 

By the end of she and Cecilia’s third visit to Starecross Hall, Rosalind had been quite certain that he planned to propose, and she would be more than willing to accept. She was overdue for a proposal, being that she was already twenty and not yet married. This may have been largely due to the fact that she was a somber girl. She preferred the company of books to the company of most men, but there was something about Mr. Hadley-Bright, William (yes, he had entreated her to call him by his Christian name, and she, blushing furiously, had complied) that made her wish to spend less time reading and rather more time sitting with him in the garden and talking of magical history. 

Before she and Cecilia had embarked for High Petergate from their last visit, she had removed her golden locket and pressed it into his palm as a keepsake. She could still remember the soft look in his eyes as he’d closed his fingers gently around the necklace and held it to his heart. How she wished she had been brave enough to kiss his hand, or his cheek. To shew some form of ardent affection before she was taken away again, back to London, but neither of them seemed given to acts of rash romanticism. He seemed a little shy in her presence, and she feared he would need more than a necklace to induce him to take to one knee, yet she was at a loss as to how to bring this event about. 

Her plans had been to request that uncle Honeyfoot take them back to Starecross the next week, for she and Cecilia were to return to London shortly, and she wanted to give William another chance to summon up the courage to ask for her hand. Before this could transpire however, her sister had insisted that they take some fanciful trip out into the Yorkshire countryside for a picnic. Cecilia had read far too many novels and was convinced that some sort of romantic adventure awaited them out in the countryside. Rosalind had relented simply for the fact that it was rather dull in York, compared with the manic energy of London, and because her aunt and uncle seemed unable to do more than ply them with books and tea and gentle conversation. 

And so they’d packed a picnic basket and a blanket and had taken uncle Honeyfoot’s post-chaise a little distance from the city to find a nice spot where they could sit and have their lunch. A pretty spot where Cecilia could pick wildflowers and make daisy chains and traipse about along the forest edge, pretending to be some intrepid adventurer with a sword. Ever since she had been a wee thing, Rosalind’s sister Cecilia had loved to play at being a soldier, or an archer or an explorer. She frustratingly refused to become fascinated by ballgowns and embroidery as a young lady ought, and instead spent time reading books such as The Epic of Gilgamesh and Robinson Crusoe, and attempting to fashion makeshift swords out of pokers from the fire or twigs from the garden. Their mother had insisted that it was but a passing fancy, but it never passed. Cecilia learned to sew and do a fair needlepoint. She learned to bake and to cook and to speak Latin and French and Italian passably well. She did these things from a sense of obligation, but given half the chance, she would tromp her way off into the most mysterious or remote place she could find to play at exploring. 

This was her main reason for suggesting that they have a picnic in the countryside. In London, there was little adventuring for a single young lady to accomplish. It would not be seemly for her to run off down narrow alleyways or disappear into crowded marketplaces. But out here among the trees? She could wander to her heart’s content. As long as she brought her stodgy, bookish sister with her to act as chaperone that is. 

Rosalind was content to sit upon the picnic blanket and nibble at grapes and biscuits and read a book on Socrates while her younger sister went walking along the forest edge, peering into the shadows and singing made up songs about pirates. 

It wasn’t until the singing stopped and all grew quiet that Rosalind thought to look up, and upon doing so, realized that Cecilia was nowhere to be seen. She’d rushed to the forest edge, only to find her sister standing not two yards away, under the shade of the pines. She was however, still visible from the sun drenched clearing where they’d set up their picnic. What was quite disturbing was that there was another person there, engaging Cecilia in conversation. 

Rosalind had rushed back to the blanket to fetch the picnic basket, for it was still half full of good food and she dared not leave it by the side of the road, before hurrying back to the forest and following her sister under the dark branches. 

Cecilia was standing with her back to Rosalind, talking animatedly with a very strange person indeed. It was a lady, that much was clear, for she wore a long, gossamer gown and had long, unbound silvery-white hair. As Rosalind drew closer, she saw a bow slung over the woman’s shoulder and a sly grin upon her face and heard her voice, sounding like the ringing of little silver bells. Cecelia was clearly enchanted and the two were engrossed in the most lively of conversations.

“Yes! London! I do not know if you have been there my lady, but it is a large place, full of the tallest, grandest buildings and much hustle and bustle of people and carriages and horses. You should visit there one day. Why if you do, you may certainly stay with Rosalind and I. You will be the talk of the town, what with your silver hair and lovely gown!” Rosalind overheard this last bit from Cecilia as she cautiously approached the two. 

The white haired lady’s eyes flicked to Rosalind’s face over Cecilia’s shoulder and Rosalind felt her step falter when she saw that the woman’s eyes were like those of a cat’s. A yellow-gold color with slits for pupils. All of a sudden, Rosalind knew which creature stood before her, chatting so amiably with her sister. It was clearly a fairy lady. 

“Cecila,” she hissed as she walked the rest of the distance to where the two were standing and gripped her sister by the elbow. “Come away from this person. It is a fairy and she is likely sent here by the devil to tempt you to ungodly acts.” 

Rosalind watched as the fairy lady’s face hardened and became icy with anger, yet Cecilia seemed unaffected by her elder sister’s warning. “Oh come now Rosie, do not say such things. This kind lady means us no harm. She only asked if I would wish to join her and her brother for dinner, and I have gladly accepted!”

“Cecilia! We cannot do such a thing!” Rosalind did not let go of her sister’s elbow and instead began to pull her bodily away from the strange fairy lady. “We must return to High Petergate at once! Auntie and Uncle will be mad with worry if we do not return before dark!”

Cecilia wrenched her elbow from Rosalind’s grasp and refused to budge. “You may return if you wish Rosie, but I will be going to have dinner with this fascinating lady and her brother. They have invited us to dine with them, and it would be the height of rudeness not to accept. And whatsmore,” her eyes suddenly glowed with unsuppressed joy, “she has promised to teach me to shoot her bow!”

It was then that Rosalind knew all was lost. Cecilia was unnaturally drawn to weapons. To have a beautiful and mysterious woman (another thing she was unnaturally drawn to) invite her to a fairy dinner and a lesson in archery would be irresistible. 

“You should listen to your sister,” the fairy lady said to Rosalind, her voice having about it that strange tinkling sound of bells that Rosalind found so very unsettling. “It is not often that I invite an English person to dine at our table. Your sister will make a charming dinner companion. You however,” and here she looked Rosalind up and down with a derisive gleam in her eye that Rosalind did not like at all, “are another matter entirely. But you may come along if you wish.” 

Rosalind was torn. She could, if she wanted to, abandon Cecilia and go back to High Petergate in the post-chaise and alert her aunt and uncle to this dire situation. But, if she did so, she might lose track of her sister and never see her again! And if she went with her sister and supped with these dangerous and unpredictable creatures (William had told her many cautionary tales of the fae folk on her visits to Starecross) then some tragedy would surely befall them. 

In the end, after a few moments spent in anguished indecision while she was glared at by a pair of unearthly yellow eyes and a very familiar pair of blue ones, she relented. “Fine, I shall come with you,” she said, feeling dreadful but resolved to keep her sister safe. “But only to make sure we both return safe and sound once this  _ dinner _ is done with.”

“I see that your sister is cleverer than she is pretty,” remarked the fairy lady with a sneer, and Rosalind suppressed an urge to slap her, as she knew this would not be a wise decision.

Cecilia jumped up and down with delight. “Oh Rosie!” She exclaimed. “I’m ever so glad you’ve relented. I am certain it will be quite a lovely affair. Imagine it! Supper with the fae folk! And I shall finally learn to shoot a bow and arrow!”

She turned then and she and the fairy lady walked off, arm in arm deeper into the forest, leaving Rosalind to hurry to keep up with them, the picnic basket gripped in her now fear damp hand. She worried over leaving the horses, but supposed that they had plenty of grass to eat and would be alright until she and Cecilia returned in (hopefully) only a few hours. 

Now, after being led through a strange door in the side of a large hill, and past many elegantly appointed rooms, they’d been shown to this bedchamber. Cecilia had been useless ever since the fairy had bid them adieu so that they could refresh themselves before supper. She spoke of nothing but this fine lady and her bow and arrow and her pretty hair and her lovely eyes. 

Rosalind had seen this before. Her sister at times became far too affectionate with other women. It was a thing she’d counselled Ceclilia against expressing, for she knew their parents found it unsettling, not to mention the ladies she doted on would become uncomfortable with such attentions. When they were both little girls, Cecilia would make her dolls kiss one another upon the mouth like a prince and princess should, and Rosalind had immediately slapped her hand and told her to stop. It was not appropriate behavior and would only cause her sister to become the focus of unwanted scrutiny. 

And look, now, just such a thing had transpired. Cecilia’s inappropriate behaviors had landed them prisoners in a fairy castle under the ground. Rosalind sat gingerly upon the edge of the large bed and watched as her sister brushed her hair and hummed to herself. She hoped that someone would notice that they were missing and come find them. She hoped that maybe William Hadley-Bright would ride up upon a white horse and take her away from here. She hoped they did not spend the rest of their days beneath the earth in a strange fairy court. 


	3. Chapter 3

Segundus and Childermass rode for some time beneath the trees. Segundus continued to sense the magic pulling them onward, and every time he closed his eyes, he saw what amounted to glowing ley lines, leading them through the trees. A spider web of bright strands behind his eyelids. He had always had a sense of magic that was very highly tuned, but never before had he seen things quite so clearly. 

Thanks to Childermass’ protective spell, he was able to ride somewhat comfortably, with the magic a muted sort of buzz behind his eyes that was irritating, but not overwhelming. The rope that connected their saddles made sure they did not wander off without each other, which, if you think that such a thing would be hard to accomplish while two grown men upon sturdy horses rode down a path through the forest, you would be sorely mistaken. Fairy magic was unpredictable. As were the creatures that lived within such woods.

The air under the trees was far cooler than even shade could explain. It had been April when they’d entered the forest, and yet here it felt more like late February. One could easily imagine frost on the undergrowth in the mornings and cold nights that necessitated a large fire to keep warm. The light was dim, but clear enough to see by, remaining a dull twilight, even though the sun was likely climbing in the sky back in English lands. 

All around them, the darkness chittered and whistled with unknown fauna. Strange, bright birds flitted by periodically overhead and the underbrush crunched and twitched now and then with the movement of larger creatures, unsettlingly (yet also thankfully) unseen. Segundus felt a small thrill at being somewhere so strange and uncertain. He hadn’t had much in the way of adventure in his life for the past several months, and he had thought himself ready to be done with it in any case. And yet here he was, riding into the dark, enchanted unknown, accompanied by a dark and mysterious man, to rescue a pair of young women from the clutches of some unknown fate. It was quite exciting really. 

If he were completely honest with himself, simply being alone with Childermass accounted for half of the excitement all on its own, even without the benefit of an enchanted fairy road to wander down in the glowing twilight. 

The man was mystery incarnate. His motives and desires and thoughts (whatever they may be) were always well hidden behind a casual expression of perfect calm. His words were spoken with a surety and confidence that immediately urged those who listened to comply (or to grow quite angry at his presumption). He was a character from a fairytale all on his own. A woodsman or a wizard or a lone knight, traveling through an unknown land. Even as he resented the man for having the audacity to do the things he had done when in Norrell’s service, Segundus found him quite intriguing. 

He turned now in his saddle to cast a curious glance back at Childermass and found the other man looked directly back at him, as if he’d been staring at Segundus this entire time and had not been looking at their surroundings at all. Their eyes held for a split second before Segundus jerked his gaze forward again and felt himself blush furiously. What was it about those dark, intense eyes that made him feel so very nervous? As if his body were held together by the most tenuous of threads and when Childermass looked at him, they began to unravel just a little bit. 

Putting thoughts of unraveling out of his mind for the moment, Segundus turned his gaze to the path in front of them. He had no idea in which direction the women had gone, but the locket about his wrist glowed a consistent golden color, and so he assumed they were moving in the right relative direction. If his senses were correct, they were headed northwest. The trees were thick on either side of the path, yet now and again, an unidentifiable flicker of something bright would dance between the dark trunks of pine and alder and ash. Such figures, if that is what they were, moved so swiftly, that Segundus could not quite turn his head fast enough to see them, and they danced frustratingly in the corners of his eyes.

“Tis the fairy folk,” he heard Childermass say from behind him. “Do not bother yourself with trying to catch them. They only let you see them when they wish to be seen.”

“But...there are so many of them! Or perhaps, only a few, but they move very quickly? I have been seeing them flash between the trees every few moments.”

“I think it is the latter,” Childermass opined thoughtfully. “They can move with lightning speed when they have the occasion to do so. The fae folk are capable of many things that we have either forgotten or have never known. If Norrell had had his way, we’d have never known another thing about them and would have buried their legacy as deeply as we could.” 

Segundus was surprised to hear Childermass speak of his old master thusly. “I thought that you and Norrell were of the same mind,” he said.

“I am not certain how you came to believe this Mr. Segundus,” Childermass replied. “Norrell bade me to warn you against beginning your school, but now, you can clearly see that since he has gone, I am in favor of its development and the continuing of its operation. Norrell wished to own all of the books of magic in England, and yet I have delivered several such books that I found along my travels directly into your own hands. Perhaps you should think more before you speak.” 

Segundus was very glad that he faced away from Childermass so that the other man could not see his reddening cheeks. For a moment, he felt anger and shame mingling unpleasantly in his chest and belly as they rode on in silence. “You cannot expect me to forget the things that you did while in Norrell’s employ,” he said at last, knowing that he sounded petulant. 

“No,” Childermass responded, his voice losing some of its edge. “I cannot expect you to forget. I can however expect you to remember the things I have done in the intervening months that will hopefully convince you to learn to trust me sir.” 

Segundus felt his shame win out over anger at hearing Childermass’ words. “It is not easy for me to trust someone with whom I have had such a contentious and uncertain association with for so many years.” He said, turning then in his saddle and looked back at Childermass, who met his eyes steadily, his face unreadable. “But I shall endeavor in the future to take you at your word.”

Childermass snorted at this and rolled his eyes. “I am honored,” he said, clearly not impressed with Segundus’ attempt at reconciliation.

And then, just as swiftly, Segundus’ anger took over again. “You could be more gracious sir, for a man who helped dissolve a good number of magical societies and who helped to end who knows how many livelihoods for the sake of doing the bidding of one sour, miserly hermit!” His face had grown hot again, and despite the fact that he knew it was not gentlemanly to yell at the other man, in this moment, he was too incensed to have a care for propriety. Childermass had scoffed at his apology, and that was no way to promote a burgeoning friendship. 

“I am not a gracious person Mr. Segundus. Nor am I polite. Nor am I apt to care overly much about what you think of me. You can trust me or not, as you so please, but I’ll not apologize for my life before I came to Starecross. I have not apologized for my life to Norrell before I came to his employ either, and I did a good many things that you would not approve of then as well. Your approval in fact is something I decidedly do not require!” His eyes, once impassive, had grown flinty and his voice had risen to a sharper pitch. 

Segundus turned back around in his saddle, breath coming fast, face feeling as if it were on fire with the heat of a midday summer sun, even in the cool air beneath the trees of the fairy road. He stared forward, willing his pounding heart and burning chest to ease as Childermass’ words went through his mind, mocking him. He heard Childermass grunt abruptly behind him, but he did not turn around again, not wishing to see the other man’s face. He was angry, so angry in fact that he failed at first to notice that Absalom had stopped walking. Once he realized this telling fact, he looked over his shoulder and discovered that Childermass was no longer in his saddle. The man was gone. 

“Mr. Childermass?” At first, Segundus thought that perhaps Childermass had dismounted in order to walk, or to check on one of Brewer’s shoes, but a quick look around shewed that he was nowhere to be seen. Segundus quickly dismounted, his heart in his throat. “Mr. Childermass!” he called out, hearing his voice become swiftly absorbed in the endless, chirping, echoing vastness beneath the trees. He walked back to Brewer and then past the horse, who was prancing a bit and blowing. Likely he had not expected his master to disappear either. Once Segundus had walked past Brewer, he could see a frantic movement in the underbrush to the side of the road, and saw Childermass’ hat where it had fallen to the ground nearby, and heard a loud rustling noise. He approached and heard a muffled shout from within the tangled pile of vines and leaves.

“Mr. Childermass!” Segundus rushed over and bent down to discover that Childermass was wrapped up in a great profusion of creeping vines. He had vines wrapt around both legs and both arms and one, rather thick vine had looped itself around his neck and appeared to be attempting to choke the life out of him. “Oh my! Oh no! Mr. Childermass! What has happened?!” Segundus immediately set to tearing away the creeping vine that gripped at Childermass’ neck and managed, with the use of no small amount of strength, to pull it free. The man gasped for breath.

“Get the knife from my boot!” he rasped, his face going from a beet red to a more reassuring pale color as the pressure against his throat fell away. Segundus hurried to find the knife he spoke of, and at first fumbled with pulling it from the top of Childermass’ boot and dropped it into the underbrush. 

“Drat!” he yelped before bending to fish it out from the green profusion of moving tendrils, fear pulsing through him as Childermass kicked and thrashed. As Segundus’ fingers closed around the fallen knife, a thin vine wrapt itself about his wrist and attempted to pull him into the fray, and another had begun to curl around his ankle, but he ripped his hand free with a shout, then swiftly cut at the one on his ankle and kicked it away. It took him but a moment to use Childermass’ small, sharp knife to cut away the vines surrounding the man’s arms and legs, allowing Childermass to struggle to his feet. The moment Childermass had his balance, he took hold of Segundus’ hand and grabbed the knife from him, none too gently and finished hacking away at the vines that were even now attempting to wrap around his limbs and pull him back into the underbrush. 

“Get back!” he yelled, using a hand in the center of Segundus’ chest to push him quite forcefully away from the tangle of living vines that were still hungrily curling at his feet. “They have quite a reach on them. They may still pull us back in!” Childermass shouted, backing away and pushing Segundus away with him.

Segundus stumbled backward and watched helplessly as Childermass cut the last few tendrils of pernicious vegetation away from him and backed swiftly from the edge of the forest. Luckily, the vines had seemed to learn their lesson and did not leap out to grab either man again. Childermass turned to Segundus. “Mount up, and quickly! We need to put some distance between ourselves and these...things!” He bent to grab his hat and put it back on as he hurried to Brewer.

Segundus rushed to do as he was told and quickly mounted Absalom. After a swift look over his shoulder to make certain that Childermass was also atop his horse and ready to go, he kicked Absalom into a canter, trusting that Childermass’ horse could keep up. And keep up he did. They did not urge their horses into an outright run. To do so would be unnecessarily risky while they were tied together with the lead rope, but they still managed to make their way perhaps a mile down the road before Childermass yelled that they could slow to a walk again. The road had widened as they’d fled, and now they found they could ride side by side comfortably. Looking to the sides of the road, Segundus could see no vegetation that resembled the murderous vines, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“What says the lady’s necklace?” Childermass asked him, a touch breathless from their flight. 

Segundus had forgotten about the necklace in all the confusion and swiftly looked down at it, fearing for a moment that their magical beacon had been pulled from his wrist by one of those enchanted vines. But no, it still remained, looped about like a bracelet. And it still glowed, even more brightly than before the incident. He held it up so that Childermass could see it. “It appears we are still headed in the right direction, and my senses tell me we are still riding northwest.” He paused, casting a sideways glance in Childermass’ direction. “Are you hurt sir?” he asked. 

“Not overly much,” Childermass replied. He cleared his throat and Segundus saw him reach up to feel his neck where there was still a red mark from the murderous vine that had been choking him. “Thank you,” he said, looking quickly at Segundus and away again. “You saved my life. Had you not cut those things away from me, I’d have perished for sure.” 

Segundus nodded in response, not knowing quite what to say. They rode on in silence for a while. It was a few moments later when something occurred to Segundus. 

“Childermass,” he said, and the other man turned to regard him from atop Brewer. “We’ve been riding for some time.”

Childermass caught on to what Segundus meant to say quickly. “Yes,” he replied, suspicion creeping into his voice as he twisted in the saddle and looked behind him. 

“The ladies could not have come this far on foot,” Segundus finished his thought. 

“Perhaps they were conveyed away by fairy horses? Fairy carriages?” Childermass replied thoughtfully. “To own the truth, I had not noticed how far we had come, and still the chain burns bright.” He nodded at the necklace that glowed merrily around Segundus’ wrist.

The thought of Honeyfoot’s nieces being stolen away by fairies was disturbing enough to Segundus. The thought of them bundled into the back of some cart or clinging to a fairy rider atop a speeding horse was doubly concerning. He had assumed they’d been on foot, but that could no longer be the case. Unless… 

“It could be that we are being led in circles,” Childermass spoke up, giving voice to the worries inside Segundus’ head with startling accuracy. “They could be a stone’s throw from here and we could be circling their location continuously and we would never know.” 

“Yes, this could also be true. While my sense of direction is a good one, it would be no match were they to move the ground beneath our feet, or play havoc with the directions of north or south. Mr. Strange did such things himself during the war, so we know it is quite possible.” Segundus looked around him as well to see if anything was familiar. All that stretched out in front of them and behind them was an endless, plain track in the forest, fringed by heavy underbrush, broken by the occasional clearing and guarded by a never ending succession of silent, stately trees. He sighed. 

“I think we have no choice but to ride onward and see what shall happen,” Childermass said. “I am unsure if the vines that tried to squeeze the life out of me were from fairy malice or simply if that is the duty they were grown to perform in general. I am hoping they were not a welcoming gift from our fairy hosts.”

Segundus nodded, and they continued onward for a while in silence. The sun must have been well past its zenith, and yet the forest surrounding them stayed shrouded in a dim twilight. The strange noises from within the trees came and went, and the flickers of light, some looking like luminescent insects, some like larger things that never stayed still long enough to truly be beheld, continued dancing at the edges of Segundus’ vision. 

He had been surrounded by magic for some hours now, and it had begun to take its toll. The mild buzzing behind his eyes had started to grate upon his nerves and his vision had gone a little blurry at the edges. He now had a dull ache in his head that had begun to throb.

“You are in pain,” 

Segundus looked up and into a pair of dark eyes. Childermass was regarding him with a sort of intent scrutiny that made him look away quickly with a nervous thrill in the pit of his stomach. “Yes,” he replied, rubbing the bridge of his nose and squinting his eyes closed against the pain in his head. 

“Give me your hand,”

Segundus’ eyes shot up to look at Childermass again in surprise.

“It is not for any nefarious purpose, I assure you,” Childermass replied with a sarcastic twist to his mouth. “It is easier to recast the spell of protection about you, and it will last far longer if we are in contact. If holding my hand is too large a price to pay for an easing of your pain, then simply place a hand upon my arm.” Here he reached out his arm toward Segundus and nudged Brewer closer to Absalom in the process. 

Segundus ignored the tight, nervous feeling in the pit of his stomach at the thought of touching the other man, and reached out boldly to clasp Childermass’ outstretched hand in his. It was calloused and warm. Childermass closed his eyes and muttered the words of the protective spell, and Segundus felt the pain in his head ease and fall away. He took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh as the buzzing discomfort receded. “Thank you,” he murmured, looking up at Childermass, where he rode, their knees almost touching, next to him. 

“You may release my hand now,” Childermass said, and Segundus realized belatedly that he still had the other man’s hand clasped in his own. He snatched his away, feeling his face grow hot with embarrassment and busied himself with looking ahead at the path in front of them. 

Childermass guided Brewer back to their usual riding distance, a few feet apart, and they continued for some time in silence, until Childermass spoke up again. “Would you like to learn that spell?” He asked. “So that you may perform it yourself and ease your own discomfort? I did promise to teach it to you.”

Segundus nodded, looking expectantly at Childermass. “Yes, that would be a very welcome thing. I only hope that I can execute it without making matters worse. The more complex spells often give me a headache.”

Childermass chuckled softly. “That would be quite ironical indeed,” he replied. “Still, we will not know unless you try. Here, these are the hand motions of the spell, and they may be done with one hand if need be, as you just saw moments ago.” He executed a series of motions with his hand, and Segundus watched him do it twice before cautiously emulating his movements. Next, Childermass taught him the words of the spell, which were also simple and easy to memorize. The magic would not work unless a person executed both words and motions at the same time, and so Segundus practiced first the motions and then the words, until he was relatively certain that he could remember them. He would practice them both together the next time the magic of Faerie began to cause him pain. 

They rode on for what felt like hours, but this was hard to determine by the motions of the sun, as it could not be seen beneath the canopy of endless trees. The light remained a silvery gray, dim and consistent, and the rustling and chirping from within the depths of the forest never ceased. Segundus found himself nodding in his saddle, and wondered if it were evening yet.

“We should stop for the night,” said Childermass beside him. He had ridden closer again, and Segundus felt a flash of irritation at the thought that the other man meant to prop him back up in his saddle. He sat up straighter and shot Childermass a flinty look, which Childermass ignored. 

“Yes,” Segundus replied. “I have no earthly idea what time it is, but it would be good to rest.”

“I can feel in my bones that it is near sunset, even in this godforsaken place,” Childermass said. 

The two of them looked around for a suitable place to stop and after a few minutes ride, there was a small clearing by the side of the road that seemed safe enough. 

Once they’d dismounted, they searched the area for fallen branches and started up a small campfire. Luckily, the underbrush in this particular spot did not reach out to grab at their limbs or their clothing, for which Segundus was eternally grateful. 

Segundus fished around in his saddlebags for a moment and returned to the fire with a hunk of cheese and a half loaf of bread which they split between them, along with some water from the waterskin Childermass had brought. “We would do well to find the ladies and leave Faerie before we run out of food and water,” Childermass said around a bite of bread. “It is not good to eat or drink of anything from these lands, for this is the easiest way fairies have of exacting their enchantments and wicked schemes.”

Segundus nodded his agreement. “I hope it shall not be too much longer before we find our destination,” he stared into the flames, feeling the anxiety and uncertainty of the day bleeding slowly out of him and being replaced with exhaustion. He yawned, putting a hand to his mouth to avoid being rude. 

“I will take first watch,” Childermass said. “I will wake you in a few hours so that I may get some rest before we go on.” 

Segundus nodded, and after bundling his cloak under his head, he lay down and closed his eyes. Despite the wild sounds of the forest around them and his lingering apprehension about their trip, the events of the day had worn him out and he was asleep instantly.

He was shaken awake what felt like only moments later by Childermass’ hand upon his shoulder. He groaned in frustration before he could stop himself, for he had been very tired and was very warm and comfortable and did not wish to wake yet. He opened his eyes though and struggled slowly into a sitting position. The reason for the warmth and comfort was soon made clear when he felt Childermass’ large greatcoat fall from his shoulders as he sat up. The other man had apparently draped it over him while he slept. 

Childermass saw Segundus’ confused look. “You were shivering,” he said, by way of explanation. 

“Thank you,” Segundus murmured, touched by the other man’s thoughtfulness and still more than a little groggy. “I would sorely like a cup of tea. It is a shame we could not bring any.”

“Oh ye of little faith,” Childermass grinned and handed him a tin camp cup full of hot liquid, which Segundus took with wide eyed gratitude. 

“You brought tea! Oh! Bless you sir!” He gripped the cup with both hands, letting the hot tea soak into his palms and fingers and brought it up to his mouth for a small sip. Just the smell of it made him feel more awake and alert.

“I spend half of my days traveling about the countryside with a ragged street magician atop a horse,” Childermass said with a wry twist to his voice. “I’d be a poor traveler indeed if I did not have the wherewithal to bring tea with me. “ He picked up a small metal canister and shook it for emphasis before putting it down beside him and picking up his own cup. A small tin teapot sat near the fire, steaming gently. 

“And you sir, will you sleep now?” Segundus asked, feeling more than a little nervous at the prospect of sitting up while Childermass slept, in this unsettling place. 

“For a little while yes. But I need only three quarters of an hour or so. I do not usually sleep much.” Childermass replied, downing the last of his tea and rising to fetch his greatcoat before settling down again opposite Segundus. Segundus wrapped his own cloak around his shoulders, feeling the loss of the other man’s large, warm coat quite keenly in the chill air of the fairy evening. “I’ve placed some protective spells around the campsite. Wake me if anything is amiss.” And with that, he placed his hat on a nearby rock, draped himself in his coat and using a saddle bag for a pillow he curled onto his side, facing the fire and closed his eyes. He was asleep within moments. 

Segundus looked around at the blinking, chittering twilight and shivered. He hoped fervently that he would not have cause to wake Childermass. God only knew what sorts of horrid creatures lurked among the dark tree trunks that surrounded their campsite. 

He busied himself with practicing the hand motions and words of the spell to guard himself against magical fatigue for a little while. Then he busied himself with making up a lesson plan for the students (in his head of course, as there was no pen and paper to be had). When that was accomplished, he could think of nothing else to occupy himself with, and in the relative quiet of the night he found that try as he might, he could not keep his eyes from Childermass’ sleeping face. 

At first it was simply because he had never seen the man sleep before. He’d never seen this mysterious person with his dark clothes and ragged hair exhibit even a moment’s vulnerability in all the years he had known him. It was true, yes, that Segundus had had very little contact with Childermass during those years, and a bit of it had been erased with the help of Norrell’s dastardly spells. Still, what he knew of Childermass was all surety and gruffness and surliness. And here the man lay, his face lit by the soft yellow-orange glow of their small campfire, his eyes closed and features smoothed out with sleep. Segundus thought that he looked very much younger than he did when he was awake. 

The other man’s features were often half obscured by his fall of unruly, tangled hair and the sardonic twist of his one-sided smile, but now, with his face made lax and soft, his hair tucked behind one ear, Segundus could not help but notice that he was quite handsome. Well, perhaps  _ handsome _ was too strong a word for such a rough person, but there was something very appealing about his features nonetheless. And if Segundus were being truthful, this was not the first time he had noticed Childermass’ looks. It was only that he also felt a curious tension whenever he was near the man that muddled his thoughts on the subject. Now, with Childermass sleeping peacefully and Segundus being able to simply sit and watch him, without their contentious history and without social graces getting in the way… 

Childermass’ thick, dark lashes rested on the tops of high cheekbones and Segundus noticed that his mouth had quite a nice shape to it. The man’s shoulder rose and fell evenly with his slow, even breathing, and that mouth had fallen open just a little in his sleep. He looked rather helpless...almost sweet, and Segundus was surprised to feel a surge of fondness toward the man who now lay across the fire from him. He could not help but recall how Childermass had draped his coat around Segundus to keep him warm, had given him water and tea, and how it had felt to clasp the other man’s hand in his as he’d executed the magic dampening spell earlier that evening. 

Perhaps Segundus had misjudged Childermass. He had seen him as cold and calculating, sarcastic and needlessly defensive. But perhaps, it simply took longer to find one's way beneath the man’s gruff exterior to discover the true warmth and caring underneath. Segundus realized that he liked that warmth, that he wanted to see more of it. That he wanted… what was it exactly that he wanted...

Realizing that he was staring intently at Childermass’ sleep softened mouth and that his face and chest had gone all hot, he ripped his eyes away and shook himself out of his sentimental stupor. Realizing that it would not do to be caught gazing at the other man like a doe eyed fool, he returned his gaze to the forest around them. That was when he happened to see the pair of eyes peering at him from within the darkness of the underbrush beyond the firelight’s reach. 

The eyes were slanted upward, and yellow in color, and seemed to glow slightly. Segundus felt his heart speed up to a pounding in his ears. His eyes flew back to Childermass’ sleeping face, then back to the shadows beyond the campfire. More pairs of eyes had gathered around the first set, and now the darkness seemed full of them. 

“Mr. Childermass!” he whispered as loudly as he dared. To his credit, Childermass’ eyes drifted open almost immediately. He was blessedly a light sleeper. He looked over at Segundus, his face shifting from the lassitude of sleep to alert watchfulness in a split second.

“Mr. Childermass,” Segundus repeated, “I think we have company.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is really just a way for me to put the Johns in as many romantic, slow burn-ish, ridiculously tropy situations as possible. I am enjoying writing it very much.

Childermass was sitting upright in a moment and had his knife out of his boot and in his hand without Segundus fully seeing the motion of him fetching it. He quickly looked around and also saw the multiple pairs of glowing eyes surrounding their camp. “Do not move,” he told Segundus, his gaze flicking from the threatening eyes to Segundus’ face and back again. “I shall make my way very slowly to you,” he continued, and as he said so, he rose to his feet. He kept himself bent double though, not standing up fully.

Segundus did as he was asked and did not move anything but his eyes, which tracked Childermass’ slow, hunched walk around the campfire to stand next to Segundus. “Rise sir, slowly and stand behind me, there are less of them in that direction, and you may guard that side while I keep watch on the others.”

Segundus nodded, feeling a flush of relief that Childermass was taking hold of the situation, was protecting them both. His own knife was foolishly stored in his saddle bags. _The horses._ Segundus looked around but Brewer and Absolom were nowhere to be seen. 

He looked behind them and saw that the eyes of whatever beasts lay hidden in the underbrush had moved away from that direction. A quick glance forward over Childermass’s shoulder shewed that the glowing eyes had now gathered in front of them. This was curious. If a creature wished to devour them, to hunt them down and eat them, it would be prudent to make certain they were fully surrounded, would it not?  
  


He placed a hand upon Childermass shoulder, feeling the man flinch gently at the contact, for his body was coiled tight with apprehension. “There are none behind us,” he whispered and Childermass nodded without moving his eyes from the glowing profusion in front of them. 

“You need not worry,” came a strange, rasping voice from the underbrush. “We did not come here to eat you.” 

Before Segundus could quite piece together the logic of being spoken to by a group of glowing eyes, one such pair of eyes moved forward into the light and revealed itself to belong to a rather large wolf. He felt Childermass tense further under his hand, as he had not removed it from the other man’s shoulder, and he could not stop a sharp gasp of surprise upon seeing this fearsome creature. It was perhaps the height of a man’s waist, and thickly muscled. It had a long snout and tufted ears and it regarded the both of them calmly with it’s golden eyes from where it sat at the edge of the underbrush surrounding the camp. 

As Segundus looked upon it more, he realized that unlike an ordinary wolf, it had no fur, only what appeared to be a strange coat, white and papery and frayed. The animal looked as if it were covered in birch tree bark. 

“Hello,” he heard Childermass address the fae creature. “We are only stopping here briefly and will be on our way soon. We do not wish to cause any trouble or inconvenience.” Segundus admired Childermass’ calmness and level headedness in the face of a clearly enchanted, talking beast. The man’s steadiness helped calm his own fear.

“We could sense as much,” the wolf replied passively. “We mean you no harm. We only wish to discover what you are doing here, as we very rarely see Englishmen in these woods.” 

Segundus felt Childermass turn from iron back to flesh under his palm and he himself relaxed a little. “We are searching for two English ladies that we believe may have been abducted by the fairy folk. Have you heard news of such a thing?” Childermass asked. 

“I am sorry to say we have not. But if you wish it, we may accompany you and your mate to their brugh, for it is not too far from here.”

Segundus’s eyes went wide upon hearing the word ‘mate’, but he did not have the courage nor the wherewithal to correct the creature, and Childermass did not do so either. “That would be very appreciated Mr. Wolf,” Childermass responded, stepping away from Segundus, but still staying close. “May I ask why you would wish to help us?”

“Simple curiosity,” replied the wolf. “We are a curious race of creatures and these woods can grow dull if one lives here for a few centuries. It is not often that we see Englishmen here, and rarer still when they are bonded so strongly by magic.”

“Bonded by magic…” Childermass sounded as confused as Segundus felt. “What do you mean bonded by magic? We are both magicians, in the English sense of the word, but we are not bonded to each other.” 

“Are you not?” Replied the wolf, cocking its head to the side and regarding them quizzically, or as quizzically as a wolf made of tree bark could look. “I can see it plain as day. There is a bright cord between you, between your hands. Are you not lifemates?”

Segundus felt himself go hot under his neckcloth and swiftly removed his hand from Childermass’s shoulder. “We are not..we...we are not mates!” he stammered hurriedly, stepping a little further away from Childermass as he did so. 

Childermass raised his hand and looked at it, then down at Segundus’ hand, which now hung, fisted at his side. “I see nothing,” he said. “It is a bright cord you say?”

The wolf nodded. 

And suddenly it dawned on Segundus. “The dampening spell!” he exclaimed, reaching out his hand to place it back on Childermass’ shoulder, then rethinking his decision mid movement and letting it drop to his side again. “You said that if we held hands it would be more effective!”

Childermass turned slowly comprehending eyes to Segundus’ face. “Yes,” he said softly. “Yes I did. That is the way it always works best in England. Perhaps here in Faerie…” he trailed off, his eyes holding Segundus’ as both men considered their sudden predicament. 

“In these lands magicians, when fairies wish to marry, they clasp hands and do some form of ceremonial spell or another, and it bonds them for life,” The wolf said helpfully. Segundus could barely hear him for the blood rushing in his ears. 

“And what happens when they are bonded?” Childermass asked, moving his eyes away from Segundus’ shocked face and looking back at the wolf. 

“Well, they soon grow to sense each other’s moods and feelings and to become closer in spirit. Some say they may even hear each other’s thoughts. The bond grows stronger over time. I believe it increases their skills at magic and can increase the pleasure of their mating times.” the wolf replied, and Segundus felt the blood that had recently rushed from his face, abruptly change direction and converge in his cheeks. “Mr. Childermass,” he said faintly. “The wolf is saying that we are now... married? How can this be….”

Childermass turned confused eyes to Segundus. His mouth had fallen open and he too looked flushed about the face. “I had no idea it would have this effect! Mr. Segundus, you must believe me, I did not do such a thing on purpose.” 

“Of course you did not!” Segundus cried, feeling a great rush of shameful embarrassment well up inside him. “Who would think to join with another man in fairy matrimony _on purpose_ !” He was growing more distressed by the second. Perhaps because he _had himself_ imagined such a thing more than once before and had never thought to be confronted with the reality of it, and with a man such as Mr. Childermass no less! In Segundus’ boyhood daydreams and even as a grown man of younger years, he’d thought wistfully of some sort of wedded bliss with a handsome man whom he loved with all his heart, but knowing such a thing would not ever be within his reach, he had pushed those fantasies aside as he’d grown older. Now, he dreamed only of one day perhaps being permitted to lose his virginity to someone nice who liked him as much as he liked them. To find himself wedded to a man who until yesterday he’d considered to be an opponent, but who was becoming swiftly more appealing as the hours passed was too much for his constitution.

“It was a mistake, I shall remedy it as soon as I am able,” Childermass remarked. “There is no need to get hysterical.” 

“I am not getting hysterical!” Segundus exclaimed loudly.

“You certainly _sound_ like mates,” said the wolf. 

“We are not mates!” Segundus yelled. “We are barely acquaintances!” He was unsure why he was so very angry and afraid all of a sudden. Perhaps because just before the wolves had made their appearance, he had been thinking things about Childermass that were not at all appropriate and that were very confusing, and on top of that, now, there were implications that they were...pair bonded for life… It was all a bit too much for him. In addition to the constant eerie twilight and the endless fairy road, and the buzzing in his brain from the magic that saturated this place. Not to mention the talking wolf made of tree bark that he was now conversing with.

Childermass’ face had gone stoney at the mention that they were mere acquaintances, and Segundus realized belatedly that this had not been a very polite thing to say. They knew one another far better than that, yet his soft feelings for the other man were discomfiting and made him wish to push them away from himself. 

Other wolves had dared to come out of the underbrush at this point, likely curious to see what all the commotion was about. Some had fur that looked like pine tree bark. Others had beech tree fur and still others looked as if they had oak tree bark for fur. Their eyes were all yellow and gleaming and their pink tongues lolled out of mouths filled with black teeth that looked to be covered with sap. They were a strange and beautiful species indeed. Segundus did not sense any animosity from them, they all seemed quite tame and only sat, regarding he and Childermass with patient curiosity. Now and then, one of them would scratch him or herself behind the ear with a back leg. 

Childermass had turned to the lead birch wolf. “We would be grateful if you could show us the way to the fairy brugh. We believe they may have been turning us about in circles for some time.”

The lead wolf nodded. “That is their way,” he said. “Indirect. Capricious.”

“Do your species have an easy relationship with the Fae folk?” Segundus asked. “Or is it a contentious one?” He tried hard to ignore the fact that Childermass was very carefully not looking at him. 

The birch wolf appeared to shrug its wolf shoulders. “We go back and forth,” it said. “Some centuries they are ruled by a kind king or queen and they let us be. Some centuries they hunt us for sport, and we repay them by killing their livestock. This century is a middling one. Some animosity, some harmony. We wish to help you because we have grown tired of the fairies treating English people as playthings. And to own the truth, we are in need of some entertainment.” Segundus was certain that the wolf was grinning.

“Well, either way, Mr. Wolf, we are in your debt.” Childermass said, bowing his head in deference and gratitude.

“You may call me Sylvan,” the wolf replied, and his toothy grin grew wider.

Both Childermass and Segundus introduced themselves as well. “You are both named John?” Sylvan the wolf looked back and forth between them curiously and Segundus felt himself flush again with embarrassment. It was not helping his cause of convincing the wolf that they were not soulmates to tell him this particular fact. 

“Speaking of livestock,” Segundus said, hoping to change the subject and looking around. “Where are our horses?” He had been so taken aback by the circumstances that he hadn’t thought to ask before now. He hoped they had not been devoured, though the wolves seemed benign enough.

“They were led a short distance away for the sake of their sanity and safety. We’ve found that horses are not fond of us.” Sylvan said. “They are standing, unharmed in a small copse of trees only a few moments walk from here. I’ll lead you to them.”

“Thank you Mr. Sylvan sir,” Childermass nodded again and after they’d gathered their things, he, Segundus and their complement of strange, tree bark wolves set off down the path. After a few minutes of walking, Sylvan nodded his shaggy head at a break in the trees. 

“Your horses are there, sirs. We shall go ahead a little ways, which is downwind, and you may follow us at a safe distance.”

After a short walk to a clearing off the path, Childermass and Segundus soon found their horses, still tied together with the rope and chewing happily on grass and underbrush, and bid them good morning. Segundus stroked Absalom’s nose and fed her an apple from his pack to apologize for abandoning her, and Childermass gave Brewer a companionable slap on the shoulder. 

“Do you trust them?” Segundus asked, looking over at where Childermass stood, preparing to mount up. 

“I do,” he replied with a terse nod. “They seem a shy and respectful species for the most part. They could have attacked us at any time tonight and they did not. Why lead us somewhere else when they could have easily fallen upon us when we were sleepy and unawares?”

“I too sense that they are telling the truth,” Segundus replied. “If you told me this morning that I would be traveling in the company of a pack of wolves that spoke English and looked to be made from tree bark, I would think you had lost your good senses.”

Nodding in agreement, Childermass swung himself into the saddle and Segundus followed him and together, they rode out of the clearing and onto the path. 

Segundus still felt badly about calling Childermass his acquaintance. It nagged at his gut with an unpleasant tugging sensation which drove him to speak. “Mr. Childermass,” he began hesitantly, once they were riding again, side by side. “I did not mean what I said earlier.”

“And what was that?” Childermass asked mildly, apparently dedicated to making Segundus speak his apology plainly. 

Segundus sighed and gathered his courage. “I did not mean it when I said that we were nothing more than acquaintances,” he began, feeling his heart start to leap uncomfortably in his chest at addressing this unspoken subject between them. “I have for some time wished to count myself as your... friend. It...it was only that I was rather unsettled to discover that we had ….bound ourselves together with magic.” 

Childermass was silent for a few long moments, his profile unreadable as he rode next to Segundus, and Segundus feared that he had misspoken yet again. 

“I understand,” he said at last. “I too would like to be your friend. And I promise to remedy this situation as soon as I am able. There must be some way to sever the bond. To remain this way would not be...tenable. Nor would it be appropriate.” 

Segundus felt a strange pang of disappointment at hearing how dedicated Childermass was to breaking their bond. Which made no sense at all, as what could possibly be gained from being tied to the other man? It seemed inconvenient and awkward in the extreme. Not to mention the fact that it was a bond that historically, a least for the Fae folk, seemed to find its roots in romantic connections and ...other things that were not to be thought of at this moment. But perhaps...perhaps...it would let Segundus see a bit of the inside of Childermass’ mind. His thoughts and desires… Just maybe it would let him know this mysterious man a little better?

“Agreed,” Segundus said, putting his musings firmly from his mind and changing his grip on Absalom’s reigns in a distracted fashion. “I am certain that the fairies will give us some advice on the matter. They are indeed capricious and unpredictable, but they may be able to offer some assistance.” 

Childermass nodded again and they rode on in silence for a while. They could just see the shadows of the wolf pack ahead on the path, and the horses seemed content to follow in the wolves’ footsteps without fear. 

Sooner than Segundus had expected, they reached the fairy brugh. It was a massive hillock, rising steep and mossy against the twilit sky, a great dark entranceway at the center of it that yawned threateningly in the perpetual half-light that caused Segundus’ stomach to flip flop with anxiety. He felt small and very vulnerable beneath the shadow of this enormous, organic structure, and he rode a little closer to Childermass as they approached. 

“We shall leave you now,” said Sylvan, having padded up silently to stand beside their horses, at a careful distance so as not to unduly spook them. “Our relationship with the Fae folk is a tentative one, and we are likely not welcome inside their brugh. I hope that you and your…” he paused briefly, “ _not-mate_ , are able to find the ladies you seek and leave these lands unharmed.”

Childermass dismounted and bowed again to the wolf leader, solemnly and with great respect. “If ever there is something I may do for your people, you must find a way to ask me. I am often at Starecross Hall, some miles from the city of York. But many who know the lands around this fairy road know my name. Whatever I can do to help you, I shall gladly lend a hand.” 

The wolf nodded and then without further ceremony, he and his pack turned and melted into the underbrush and were gone. 

Segundus dismounted as well, feeling a thrill of fear cut through him as he looked at the dark maw of the brugh entranceway. “Shall we go in then?” He asked, looking at Childermass uncertainly. Childermass nodded.

“We should leave the horses here. I do not wish to expose them to any more strange sights and sounds than they have seen already. Brewer will stay put and he shall keep Absalom tethered.” 

Segundus sniffed. “Absalom will not just wander off like some sort of stray dog Mr. Childermass. She is a good and faithful horse.”

Childermass shot a look at Segundus that seemed unduly frustrated. “Will you please try not to take every word that comes from my mouth as an insult.” He said, not unkindly, but with a tone of exasperation.

“I will sir, if _you_ will endeavor not to insult me at every opportunity,” Segundus shot back. His fear and Childermass’ condescension had made him snappish. He would have said more except that something unusual happened. He _sensed_ Childermass’ frustration. Not just from the expression on the man’s face, from his narrowed eyes and grim set to his mouth, but he _felt_ it, coming from the man like a palpable haze of sensation.

“I...I feel your mood sir,” he said with wonder, abandoning his own irritation and looking down at their hands, which were hanging close to each other where they stood. The hands (Segundus’ right and Childermass’ left) were the same they had clasped when Childermass had accidentally bonded them with magic, and Segundus felt the palm and fingers of his tingle gently. 

“And I yours,” Childermass' voice had come over with wonder and he looked at Segundus with wide eyes. “Perhaps we should take a moment to test this phenomenon. Think of something that makes you happy.” 

“What?” Asked Segundus, momentarily distracted by Childermass’ intent, dark gaze upon his face. 

“Think of something that makes you happy. I shall see if I can sense the feelings from you, as we just felt each other’s anger.” Childermass explained patiently.

Segundus thought he understood. He quickly closed his eyes and thought of magic. How the practice of teaching magic and learning about magic and writing about magic made him feel. At once a soft bloom of happiness unfurled inside his chest. He opened his eyes and looked at Childermass and saw from the wondrous expression upon the man’s face that something had happened.

“I feel it sir,” Childermass said. “It feels like warm sunshine in my chest. As if it were my own emotion and did not find its origin outside of myself. But I can tell it is not mine all the same. It feels slightly of something... _other_.” He smiled and Segundus felt a bloom of joy rise up inside him that came from Childermass, which in turn made him smile back. They stood there, smiling at each other and trading happiness and surprise back and forth for a moment, until Segundus shook himself as if waking from a dream. 

“Do you think it will work when we are standing farther apart?” he asked. 

“Let us see,” Childermass then walked several paces away. “I will think of something that makes me angry, for that is a sharp emotion, and more likely to travel well.” he said, and Segundus nodded. Childermass closed his eyes and his face grew intent for a moment. Segundus waited, but felt no anger.

“I feel nothing sir,” he said. Childermass opened his eyes and walked back until they were standing close together again. This time, when he closed his eyes, Segundus felt a sharp stab of anger lance through his gut.

“Oh my! Yes! I feel it Mr. Childermass! I feel it quite clearly. Whomever has made you angry, I would not wish to be them.” He thought for a brief moment as the anger faded away again and Childermass opened his eyes once more. “It is not _I_ that made you angry, is it sir?” He asked, suddenly anxious. 

Childermass chuckled. “No, it is not you,” he replied with a grin. “You have never made me as angry as the person whom I just imagined.” 

Segundus breathed a sigh of relief. “That is good to know sir, for your feelings were quite sharp indeed.”

“Tis a pity we cannot experiment more with this connexion,” Childermass said, dropping his eyes to the ground between them. “It is a fascinating thing.” 

“That it is,” Segundus replied. “It would be good indeed to spend some time in research of the causes and effects of the connection, and to take notes. Why, I believe it is a phenomenon that rivals Vinculus’ book! Perhaps the fairies will tell us of how to break it and we may do so at a later date...after we have a chance to study it thoroughly?” He hoped not to sound too eager, but he was in fact fascinated by this magical bond they now shared. 

“We shall see,” Childermass responded. “For now, I think it is high time to enter the brugh and find Honeyfoot’s nieces.” As he said this, he shouldered the saddle bag containing their food and some supplies. “Stay close to me and be prepared to run, or perhaps, to fight.”

Segundus swallowed thickly and felt the thrill of fear return to chill his insides. Childermass must have sensed it along their new connection, for he felt a warm, answering wave of reassurance flowing back at him, and the man placed a hand upon his shoulder. “All will be well Mr. Segundus. Do not worry.” Childermass’ eyes, calm and steady, held his for a moment.

Segundus nodded and together they turned and walked into the darkness of the entrance to the fairy Brugh.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this fic is becoming a trope salad. I feel like anyone who reads it is probably OK with this, but wanted to acknowledge that it's really just an excuse for me to write the Johns being confused and soft and awkward with each other in every way imaginable in the world's dumbest slow burn.

They walked cautiously into the darkness. Segundus could see the gleaming lines of magic having been done, festooning the walls and floor of the cave when he closed his eyes, and, when he turned his face at where he and Childermass' hands would be, he could, for the first time, see a line of bright magic connecting them. It was a thick cord of glowing light, and Segundus wondered momentarily at it. When he opened his eyes again, all was black. Childermass quickly remedied this situation by conjuring a ball of light that hovered in the palm of his hand, and Segundus followed suit and did so as well.

Soon, the hastily conjured lanterns became unnecessary however, for after a minute’s walk, they saw a glowing golden light around the next bend in the tunnel that led into the fairy mound, and they could hear the babble of voices. 

They proceeded with caution, and upon rounding the turn in the tunnel, saw a great, bustling common room unfold before them. Fae folk in gossamer gowns and finely tooled leathers and more modest, homespun clothing walked here and there, on errands, carrying platters of food and bales of clothes for washing. At the center of the room was a long dining table, set for what looked like an evening meal. Flowers of unimaginable colors, bright pinks and violets, and pale blues sat in vases, silverware and china plates gleamed at intervals all down its length. 

For a moment, the two English magicians stood and stared at the interior of the room. The walls were draped with ancient looking tapestries depicting great battles and fanciful beasts, the likes of which neither of them had seen outside of books. Candelabras and chandeliers of crystal set the dining hall aglow with golden yellow light, while fairies hurried here and there like brightly colored fish or exotic birds. 

“Oh my,” breathed Segundus. He felt not only his own wonder at the sights before him, but Childermass’ as well through the bond that connected them (as they were standing quite close to one another). He had the presence of mind to realize that now that he recognized the bond for what it was, he could feel far more of Childermass’ reactions along their connexion. He wondered if he had been feeling Childermass’ moods before their conversation outside the brugh, but that would take far more concentration to parse out, and so he abandoned the thought and simply joined the other man in admiring the wild profusion of fairy beauty laid out before them. 

A passing fairy servant noticed them and stopped in his headlong dash to convey a platter of what looked like candied dates from one side of the room to the other. “Hello sirs!” He exclaimed cheerfully. “Have you come for the feast?”

Childermass addressed him. “We have come to find the two English women in your court. Perhaps you can tell me where they might be?” Segundus noticed that he kept his tone polite and did not demand to be taken to the women. This was wise, for they did not know what sort of welcome they would receive once the master or mistress of this brugh caught wind that they had arrived. 

“Ah! The English ladies! Yes, the court is all abuzz with their arrival yesterday. They are taking audience with the prince and princess in their private quarters,” the fairy remarked, and Segundus was not sure he liked the suggestive gleam in the fairy gentleman’s eye when he said this. 

“Would you lead us there, kind sir?” Childermass asked. “For we are visitors and wish only to convey a short message to the ladies before we take our leave. We are unfamiliar with your halls and chambers.”

“Certainly!” exclaimed the fairy, “come right this way.” 

Segundus felt a flush of relief, and he and Childermass fell in line behind the fairy, who walked off briskly toward the archway of a hallway leading away from the large dining room. The three walked down the hallway for a few moments and both Segundus and Childermass gazed up at the tall, vaulted ceiling and the endless tapestries depicting unicorns and manticores and great, bloody battles. These shewed what looked suspiciously like English soldiers being run through with fairy swords. Segundus felt a stab of fear upon seeing these images splayed out above and around them, and then he felt a warm hand clasping his own. He looked down and saw that Childermass had grasped his hand, then looked up into a pair of soft dark eyes. He felt a glowing swell of reassurance leaking through their bond and he smiled softly at Childermass and nodded his head a little, thanking the other man, who swiftly let go of his hand. 

The glow imparted through their connexion lasted for quite some time, and Segundus felt that he could be much braver with Childermass’ solid presence at his side. 

Soon they came to a large, oaken door, carved all over with birds and tree branches and flowers. The fairy servant knocked and the three of them waited until the door swung open to reveal a haughty looking fairy gentleman with long dark hair. He was dressed in fine clothes of satin and silk, in a style that had been fashionable in Segundus’ youth, some thirty years ago. His ice blue eyes narrowed as he took in the scene before him.

“Pardon the interruption your highness,” the fairy servant said, bowing low. “These Englishmen wish to convey a message to your lady guests.”

The fairy prince, for that is what his honorific implied, moved his glare from the servant, to Childermass, where it became a deeper sort of scowl. Then, having stared at Childermass to his satisfaction, his eyes moved to Segundus’ face. Immediately his glare disappeared, to be replaced by an intense look of interest. “Oh, where are my manners?!” He said, smiling and looking very intently at Segundus in a way that Segundus found discomfiting. “Do come inside! We shall allow you to greet your English sisters and deliver your message fine sirs.” He turned then and led them into the chamber. Segundus and Childermass exchanged a look and then followed him.

The fairy servant departed as they walked into a spacious antechamber. “Please wait here sirs, while I alert the ladies to your presence,” the prince said, his eyes once again seeking out Segundus’ face until he turned away and stepped through an open door that led into another room. 

“My lady Cecilia, my lady Rosalind,” they could hear the fairy say from what sounded like a few paces out of sight. “There are two English gentlemen here to see you. One who is pale and very pretty and the other who looks like nothing so much as a twisted tree root in a hat. Shall I invite them in?”

Segudus shot a glance at Childermass and saw him frowning at the fairy’s description. “You do not look like a twisted tree root,” he said with a small smile. 

“On the contrary, I feel his description of both of us was quite apt sir,” Childermass replied, sharing Segundus’ smile. Segundus had just realized that he’d been given an indirect compliment, and had started to grow rather warm when the fairy gentleman returned to usher them into the next room. 

They rounded a carved, ivory screen and saw what looked to be an elaborately decorated drawing room of sorts. There were china vases on glass topped tables and sumptuous, thick carpets and crystal chandeliers tinkled gently from a high ceiling above. There were several stuffed armchairs and divans and daybeds about the room and upon them sat three individuals. 

Rosalind Brookhaven sat by herself in one of the stuffed chairs. Her back was straight, her hands folded in her lap and she had a look upon her face that clearly shewed that she was not happy at all with the situation in which she found herself. Rosalind still wore her plain, English dress, whereas her sister Cecilia wore a gossamer gown of pale green. Her hair was done up with white roses, and she was lying with her head in the lap of a fairy woman. The fairy woman must have been the princess the servant had spoken of, for she was extremely beautiful, with long, flowing, silver-white hair and yellow eyes and was dressed in a similar gown, but of a deep blue color. She was currently braiding Cecilia’s hair with nimble fingers while looking up curiously at the new visitors. The fairy prince with the dark hair stepped up to them in an officious seeming manner.

“I present to you, fair ladies, two English gentlemen who wish to speak with you!” he announced, as if he were welcoming them to a society ball. There was a touch of humor to his voice as if he thought such a thing unnecessary for the occasion but was doing it anyway to amuse himself. This was further supported by the cynical twist to his mouth. 

“Mr. Childermass! Mr. Segundus!” Rosalind stood and came over to them at once, grasping Segundus by his hands and gazing into his eyes in a beseeching manner. “I am ever so glad to see you sirs! Did Mr. Hadley-Bright come with you? Oh tell us you’ve come to take us home!” Without pausing to hear Segundus’ response, she addressed her sister, who had turned her face to look at the newcomers with interest, but had not risen her head from her friend’s lap. “You see Cecilia! They _were_ worried! You’ve worried poor uncle Honeyfoot! And this is nothing compared to how distraught mother and father must be! You must let these gentlemen escort us home!”

Cecilia finally did lever herself up to a sitting position and shot her sister a glum look. “I’ll do no such thing Rosalind. How many times do I have to tell you? I am in love with Lady Adreana and I am to marry her and stay here for the rest of my days. I have told you that you are free to go and so have our guests!”

“Oh Cecilia!” Rosalind’s face was suffused with a look of anguished frustration. “You know I cannot leave you here! You cannot stay here for the rest of your days in this fairy court! You must come home with me and lead a good, Christian life! Leave off this infatuation with this strange lady and come home with me and Mr. Segundus and Mr. Childermass!”

Segundus and Childermass looked at one another in surprise. They had both expected the ladies to be held against their will, and to see one of them, clearly besotted with the fairy princess and chusing to stay of her own accord was quite surprising. 

“Yes,” spoke up the fairy lady in question, her voice underlaid with what sounded like the ringing of silver bells. “You may leave _Rosie_ ,” she said Rosalind’s nickname with a good degree of derision. “No one is keeping you here. Go home to your precious William and leave your sister with me, for it is where she belongs. At my side, as my wife.” 

Rosalind turned pink at the mention of Hadley-Bright’s Christian name and looked back to Segundus with pleading eyes. “Did Mr. Hadley-Bright accompany you sirs? I do so wish to see him.” 

“He wanted to,” Childermass intervened. “He is very concerned for your safety my lady. We told him he could not come, for his affections for you would surely cause him to do something rash.”

This seemed to both disappoint and then to please Rosalind. 

“Besides,” the fairy princess, Adreana spoke up again. “Why should these gentlemen wish to break up a happy engagement? They are themselves married under the fairy tradition. Did you come to our lands simply to be wed, sirs? Many English men and women who wish to marry those of their same sex do this. It has become quite an industry for us.” She smiled and looked down at their hands, which were at this moment, hanging quite close together. 

Segundus felt himself blushing furiously and he took a quick step away from Childermass, who in turn cleared his throat and folded his arms over his chest. “About that,” Segundus said, not looking in his companion’s direction. “Our..erm...marriage was not done on purpose. We simply held hands in order to make a spell work more efficiently and were told that we had accidentally bonded ourselves together. We hoped that you might do something to annul the connection?”

The whole situation was becoming both confusing and surprising, and he was unsure why the words he had just spoken caused a spike of bitter disappointment to lance through his gut, until he realized with shock that the disappointment had not been his own. He turned surprised eyes to Childermass’ face, but the other man would not look at him, and kept his eyes fixed on the other inhabitants of the drawing room instead. 

“Ah!” This exclamation came from the fairy prince, who stepped closer to Segundus and gave him another intent look, the kind that made Segundus want to squirm away and hide his face with the open hunger in the fairy prince’s eyes. “I would be more than happy to sever your false connexion. It is easily done. And then you shall be a bachelor once more, yes?”

Segundus nodded nervously. The fairy prince was as handsome as his sister was beautiful, with high cheekbones and ice blue almond shaped eyes that were shot through with ebony slits like those of a reptile or a cat. His long dark hair spilled like a mahogany waterfall across his shoulders and down his back.. To have such a creature pay such close attention to him was flattering and unnerving. “Er...yes...yes, I will be a bachelor once more. Only, we were not really married to begin with and so-”

“We were hoping your majesty,” cut in Childermass, “that you could instruct us on how to sever the connection, but let us do so ourselves at a later date.” He had stepped up next to Segundus and had placed a proprietary hand on Segundus’ shoulder and was glaring at the fairy prince quite pointedly. “You see,” he continued, keeping his voice light, even as he shot daggers at the fairy with his eyes, “we had hoped to study it and its effects. For we have not seen such a thing before in our lands.” 

For a moment, fairy and man glared at each other as a tense silence stretched out and Segundus felt his face grow impossibly hotter than it already was. He sensed a surge of fierce protectiveness from Childermass through their bond, and it felt...if he were to own the truth, it felt marvelous. It made him feel safe and secure and he wanted nothing more in that moment to turn and wrap his arms around the other man and beg him to take them and the ladies away from this strange fairy court. He smothered the urge of course, but it still welled up quite compellingly in his chest through the connection between them. 

“Ah, well,” said the fairy prince after a few more tense heartbeats had passed. “I am certain that can be arranged. You must join us for dinner tonight so that we may discuss the particulars while we honor you and our other English guests with a feast.” 

Segundus nodded and Childermass grunted his ascent as well. They both knew without speaking that to refuse would be foolhardy at this time, and it would be better to humor the fairies until a plan could be concocted. 

“Excellent!” said the fairy prince. “And it occurs to me that I have not introduced myself properly. I am Prince Alder, and that is my sister, Princess Adreana. We are the rulers of this kingdom and we wish to welcome you both to stay with us until this ...mess can be resolved.” 

“I am Mr. Segundus and this is Mr. Childermass,” Segundus replied, bowing slightly as he introduced them. “We are English magicians from the lands surrounding the city of York. When the ladies Cecilia and Rosalind disappeared, we were sent to discover what had happened to them.” He wisely did not say ‘ _we were sent to rescue them’_ for this might be taken the wrong way by their fairy hosts. The situation was a strange and delicate one and would require careful diplomacy. 

“Well met!” Prince Alder replied, smiling an icy smile that made Segundus’ insides twist uncomfortably. “I shall ring for a servant to show you gentleman to your rooms. We shall let you rest and refresh yourselves in preparation for tonight’s feast.” 

He walked over to a velvet cord that hung from the ceiling and pulled upon it and a bell did indeed chime somewhere nearby. Within moments, footsteps could be heard and a fairy woman in the simple, dark dress of a chambermaid appeared and offered to lead Segundus and Childermass to their accommodations. They bid farewell to the party in the drawing room, but not before Segundus had clasped both of Rosalind’s hands in his own and had told her that all would be well and that he would see her soon. She nodded and gave him a weak smile. Then, they followed the fairy servant down a series of hallways, hung with yet more gruesome and beautiful tapestries to a set of doors in a long corridor. “Here are your rooms sirs,” said the fairy servant, before curtsying and rushing off to some other errand. 

Childermass opened his door. “Come inside,” he said, and Segundus gratefully entered, rather than going to his own quarters. He did not wish to be separated from Childermass for even a moment. Childermass’ rooms turned out to be very large and beautifully appointed, if a bit dusty. It seemed the fairy penchant to forget about the necessity of things like house cleaning when it was not completely necessary was born out by the musty state of the curtains and the duvet.

Childermass seemed agitated. He opened a narrow set of windows to let in some air, and then paced about the room, looking through doorways and opening closets, seeming unable to settle for a moment. 

“We seem to have ourselves quite the predicament,” Segundus said, watching his companion stalking about the room. 

“Yes we do,” Childermass replied. “It seems Lady Cecilia is not at all amenable to being rescued, and has in fact fallen in love with her captor.” He put his hat down on a nearby vanity and stood with his hands on his hips, looking at everything but Segundus. There was a sort of coiled tension coming off of him, faintly detectable through their magical connection.

“Mr. Childermass,” Segundus said carefully, stepping a little closer. “What is the matter?”

“What do you think of the Lady Cecilia’s affections for this fairy princess?” asked Childermass, and Segundus was momentarily confused by the question. 

“Oh, I think she is misguided in the extreme,” Segundus replied.

Childermass looked at him sharply. “Do you think she was enchanted? That the love she feels is entirely of the princess’ doing? Or do you think she is drawn to the fairy of her own accord?” he asked, sounding as if the answer were very important. 

“I...I am uncertain,” Segundus replied. “I hardly know the lady.”

“What I mean to say sir,” Childermass stepped a bit closer as well and found Segundus’ eyes with his own, “is do you think that members of the same sex may love each other? And if so, is such a thing right or is it wrong?”

Segundus swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. Had Childermass guessed his secret feelings? Could Childermass tell that Segundus was one such person who desired people of his own sex? Such a thing was against English law and was not spoken of in polite society. But...Childermass had lived for many years in rough places. Perhaps such a thing was not shocking to him?

“I...I am not fit to be the judge of her ladyship’s feelings,” he said, rather lamely. “I am but a bachelor of middling years who has dedicated his life to the study of magic. I would not presume to-”

“Never mind Mr. Segundus,” Childermass turned away from him and walked back to the windows, looking out at the grounds around the brugh. “Did you truly wish to sever our bond here, in the palace, before we had a chance to study it?” he asked, and Segundus felt confusion over the abrupt change in topic. 

“I did not,” he replied, realizing that he meant it. “I do so wish to study this connexion between us. I feel it will provide us with much knowledge of fairy magic and of ways we may perhaps mix it with English magic. You must pardon my words in the presence of the Prince, Mr. Childermass. He was quite intimidating and I momentarily forgot about our plans when I spoke.” 

“He is completely smitten with you, that much is obvious,” Childermass said, his voice low and hard. 

“Smitten?! Why what makes you say such a thing?!” Segundus exclaimed, shocked by the bluntness of Childermass’ words. True, the fairy prince did look quite intensely at Segundus, but that was the fairy way, was it not? They were a very direct species. 

“You would have to be blind not to see it,” Childermass replied, turning at last to look at Segundus. “He would not take his eyes from your face or form the entire time we were in his presence. I feel certain that he plans to follow in his sister’s footsteps and take an English person for a lover.” 

Segundus was shocked, bringing a hand to his mouth, his cheeks flushing with heat “You mean he...He would wish to…” he stammered, unsure of how to continue as his mind brought up all sorts of thoughts and images, not all of them entirely unpleasant. “Oh my! I should never. I should not wish…” 

“I should hope not!” Childermass had raised his voice a little. “I should hope that you would not entertain such a thing, for it would be-”

“It would be _wrong_ , Mr. Childermass.” Segundus finished for him. “It would be very wrong for an Englishman and a fairy gentleman to embark on such a...relationship. Wrong and _illegal_..and...and.”

“Wrong because it is two men?” Childermass asked, stepping up quite close indeed and taking Segundus by the shoulders with both hands. “Or simply wrong because he is a fairy and you are an Enghlishman?” He looked down into Segundus’ eyes with a steady gaze, and Segundus felt his heart flutter in his chest and a warmth bloom inside his belly as he returned Childermass’ stare. 

“I...I…” he hesitated, lost in Childermass’ almost-black eyes, feeling a strange surge of something he could not identify from the other man through the bond that connected them. “Mr. Childermass, I am...” 

A knock at the door broke the moment. Childermass' gaze left Segundus’ face and he released his grip on Segundus’ shoulders, stepping back hurriedly. He went immediately to the door, leaving Segundus confused and suddenly quite breathless, standing in the middle of the room as if he had just woken from a trance. He turned in time to see Childermass swing the door open and admit Rosalind. 

“Sirs! You must help my sister and I to leave this place! I have information that may be of some use.” 


	6. Chapter 6

“Please my lady, come in!” Childermass stood back and allowed Rosalind to enter. “We do wish to convey both you and your sister home to your family, and any advice you could give us to aid in that quest is much appreciated.” 

“Well, firstly,” Rosalind said as she stepped into the room and Childermass shut the door behind her, “I am famished. Have you gentlemen any food?”

“We do!” Segundus replied, rushing to his saddle bag on the floor by the large bed. He fished out some of their supplies, and soon Rosalind was sitting in a chair by the small dining table in Childermass’s room, happily eating peaches and cheese and bread.

“William...or rather, Mr. Hadley-Bright had warned me never to eat food whilst in a fairy realm and I heeded his warning, but it has been perhaps a day or so since I have eaten or drank and I was quite miserable with hunger,” she said around a mouthful. 

“We believe it has been two days,” Childermass supplied, handing her their water skin. She gulped some water down and smiled thankfully up at him. 

They waited until she had eaten her fill and had sat back in her chair with a happy sigh. 

“Tell us Rosalind,” Segundus asked gently, “is your sister enchanted by this fairy princess? Or did she go of her own accord into these lands? How is it that you came to go with her? Were you harmed?”

Childermass shot him a look that told him he was asking too many questions at once, but he ignored the man. 

“She went of her own accord, and being that I am her elder sister and did not want her traipsing off into fairy lands on her own, I was forced to accompany her. As far as I am aware, her fascination with this fairy woman is… well… it is quite a natural inclination unfortunately,” Rosalind looked down at her hands, her cheeks going pink. 

“It is alright Rosalind,” Childermass said. “We do not judge her for her infatuation. We will not tell anyone about it if we can help it.”

Segundus looked up at Childermass, surprised to hear him reassure the elder Brookhaven girl in this manner. Childermass well knew, just as Rosalind and Segundus knew, that relations with one’s own sex was a thing that could put a young woman in an madhouse. Or worse.

Rosalind’s shoulders slumped in relief and tears sprung to her eyes. “Oh thank you sirs! Thank you! It is a thing that I have tried very hard to help her hide from our family and friends for many years now. She seems to have no care for her own safety, but as you know, were anyone to find out that she fancies women...well, things could go very poorly for her indeed!”

“Her secret is safe with us,” Segundus added, placing a reassuring hand upon Rosalind’s shoulder. He looked again at Childermass, but the other man would not meet his eyes. 

“You said that you have information that would help us?” Childermass prompted keeping his attention focused on the distraught young woman.

Rosalind gathered herself and sat up straighter in her chair, wiping her tears away with the sleeve of her dress. “Yes,” she said, sniffling. “Yes, I do. I have been alert and have watched the goings on in this place. The Lady Adreana is not a bad person. She is vain and a little demanding, like many of the Fae folk, but she clearly cares very much for Cecilia and wants her happiness. Her brother however, and her aunt... Lythotainia I believe her name is, they truly hate the English. I think they plan to do Cecilia harm and are no more happy with her connexion to Lady Adrianna than I am. Though I only fear for my sister’s safety and wish her to come home with me, and they… well, I believe they do not wish to share the fairy throne with an English woman. They fear it will dilute the strength of their kingdom and cause weakness and trouble. That Cecila will somehow betray or try to enslave the Fae, for they are quite prejudiced against our people. They speak openly of such things, when Cecilia is distracted by Lady Adreana’s charms, and do not think I matter enough even to guard their speech around me.”

Childermass’ face had grown pensive as he listened. “This is not good,” he remarked when Rosalind paused. “They already do not trust us, and your sister seems dedicated to staying here. If she only wished to remain in this fairy court out of love of the lady, then...well...such things have happened before. Our own Raven King lived the majority of his life in the fairy lands. And your sister already has a touch of the Fae about her as it is. But…” and here he paused and frowned while thinking of how to proceed. “But if, my lady, your sister is in actual danger from this brother and aunt you speak of, well, we cannot let her stay. Or, we must find out their plans and thwart them before they can do harm.”

Rosalind nodded, seeing that Childermass understood the size and shape of the problem that lay before them. “I also must warn you Mr. Segundus sir, that Prince Alder has... taken quite a fancy to you. He spoke of nothing else from the moment you left the room. And though I am certain he is opposed to  _ wedding _ an English person, being that he clearly does not wish his sister to do so, he seems to have no trouble with wanting….other things, things that lie outside the realm of matrimony, if you understand my meaning sir.” She was blushing a deep pink color and twisting her hands in her lap, clearly uncomfortable with the subject and with discussing such things with Mr. Segundus. 

“Oh my,” breathed Segundus, feeling several very conflicting emotions at once. The fairy prince was an intensely handsome individual. In fact, he was likely the most handsome male person that Segundus had ever laid eyes upon. More handsome than Stephen Black. More handsome than the very dashing Jonathan Strange. He was a creature that easily outpaced normal human standards of beauty, and Segundus would be dishonest in the extreme if he did not admit to himself that he felt a thrill of excitement at the thought of this unearthly, beautiful creature wishing to be close to him. And here, in this magic drenched realm of the lands of Faerie, the possibility seemed far more rational and possible than when he was at home in Starecross Hall, safe in his bed at night, indulging in sinful fantasies. Never before in his life had another man expressed such a desire for him, let alone one so physically appealing, and he had wanted such a thing for so very long… 

He felt himself go hot at the quite explicit thoughts that flooded his mind at Rosalind’s words and shook his head to clear it. 

On the other hand, such a liason would obviously not be decent or safe in their present circumstances, nor would it be advisable. This Prince Alder was a devious individual. He had an active dislike for Englishmen in general, even if he desired Segundus in specific terms. It was not a thing that could be indulged in, even under the best of circumstances. And then there was the sharp, angry emotion he felt radiating from Childermass. The other man, still not looking directly at Segundus, had his brows furrowed and was glaring at a spot on the floor in front of him with obvious disapproval. Yes, of course. Childermass would think that a fairy prince desiring Segundus was wrong in the extreme. It was un-Christian. It was ungodly. And worse, it was counter to their plans of rescuing the ladies. Even if one of them did not particularly wish to be rescued...

“Well, Miss Rosalind, hearing that the prince feels this way is quite unsettling,” he said, hoping he sounded convincingly repulsed. “I shall keep a watchful eye on him in the future, and you can be certain that such a thing is most disturbing to me.”

He saw Childermass finally look at him, quite sharply in fact, his eyes narrowing in suspicion, and he also noticed that the man was standing very close to him at that moment.  _ Oh dear _ . Perhaps Childermass could sense that Segundus was more than a little enticed by the idea of a handsome fairy prince wishing to court him. “How do you think we should proceed, my lady?” Segundus asked Rosalind, desperately seeking a way to move past the subject of Prince Alder. 

“I am uncertain, but I do know that they plan on having a feast tonight. They had one last night and the night before.” Before either of them could ask, she continued, “and yes, Cecilia has eaten and drunk from fairy food and fairy wine. I tried slapping it out of her hand, but that only made everyone quite cross with me.” 

Rosalind looked miserable, and Segundus felt a pang of pity for the poor girl. All of this must be frightfully confusing and terrifying for her. She had likely lived something of a cosmopolitan life in London, the daughter of a well off couple, but it was nothing compared to the halls of a fairy brugh. They had strange appetites and customs and ways of behaving that Cecilia seemed to take to like a fish to water, but Rosalind, who was made of earthier stock, was somewhat unprepared to deal with. Still, she had been brave and had kept her head while trying to protect her sister. She had done better than half a dozen other young people Segundus could think up off hand. 

“We have some food left to sustain the three of us through the rest of the day, but by tomorrow morning, we shall likely run out,” Childermass replied. “I think we must attempt to resolve this conundrum tonight if at all possible.”

Segundus and Rosalind nodded in agreement. 

“Rosalind,” Childermass turned to her, “how likely do you think it is that your sister will leave here of her own free will?”

“Very unlikely sir,” Rosalind replied. “She seems utterly besotted with Lady Adreana, and the Lady is equally taken with her. I am uncertain it is my place to try to make her leave, for I have never seen her so happy. My only worry is that it will break our parents’ hearts to lose her. They have always doted on her. She is such a charming girl, despite her eccentricities and her wild nature.”

“Could perhaps the fairy princess be prevailed upon to let your sister come home for visits to London?” Segundus suggested. “Perhaps you can tell your parents that she has found a lucrative position as a very wealthy and reclusive lady’s maid...say...a lady who wishes to sponsor her education, somewhere far away…” 

“Oh Mr. Segundus! That would be quite ideal!” Rosalind smiled prettily and clasped him by both of his hands, her face beaming. “They will believe such a story if only because the truth will be quite impossible for them to fathom. But it still remains to be seen if the princess will let Cecilia go. Perhaps a fortnight a few times a year? We shall have to approach her and Cecilia with the idea. Cecilia may not want to leave at all...ever. The alternative however is that I must tell our mother and father and uncle Honeyfoot that she has run off and eloped with some dashing stranger she met near Starecross, and they will be very unhappy with that tale!”

“Yes,” Childermass said, frowning thoughtfully. “Also, there is the matter of our...erm...accidental bond to consider.” 

“Oh yes sirs! The both of you must be quite impatient to have it broken!”

“Well,” Segundus replied cautiously, “we have discussed it, and it would be ideal if we could find out how the bond may be broken, but to leave it in place long enough to study it in an academic setting, back at Starecross.” He looked at Childermass who nodded in support of Segundus’ words. 

“Yes,” Childermass said. “It is a fascinating thing, and worth study and some testing to see how it may affect us both.”

“I understand,” Rosalind said. “Mr. Hadley-Bright is of a similar mind. He is so very curious about magical happenings. During our time talking, on my visits to Starecross, he has taught me many things about the importance of magic.”

“He was very distraught by your disappearance,” Segundus told her. “And you may be assured that he will be overjoyed by your safe return.”

“Oh Mr. Segundus, thank you so much! Does he really miss me?” Rosalind’s eyes had gone starry and her smile was a ray of sunshine in the twilit room. 

“He does indeed,” Childermass replied. “I thought for a moment that he would strike me when I told him it would be unwise for him to come along with us.” 

This made Rosalind’s smile all the brighter. 

A polite knock on the door made them all turn their heads. Rosalind rose and went to open it to reveal a fairy servant on the other side. The fairy bowed deeply, and told them that dinner would be served in the dining hall in an hour and that their presences were requested by the prince and princess. Rosalind excused herself to go prepare and bid them goodbye. 

“I saw a large basin of water in the other room,” Childermass said once she had gone. “I am thinking that it is meant to serve as a hip bath, but it is large enough to accommodate one’s entire body. The room is done all over with tiles as well. It looks quite modern.”

Segundus came with him to the door to the adjoining room and both men gazed in awe at what looked like a large, white marble tub in the center of a white tiled floor. There was also a curious marble wash stand with a silver protrusion in the center of its edge that leaked cold, clean water when they approached and which ceased leaking when they stepped away. Such things seemed frightfully modern and unknown to them, and for a moment, they both spent some time in exploring the strange and beautiful bathing amenities in the strange, tiled room. It was ironic how the fairy folk dressed in outdated clothing and could some how be so advanced in the things they invented and used in daily life.

After a while, Segundus realized he must retire to his own room to prepare for dinner, and that he was very tired and travel soiled as well. He bid Childermass goodbye with no small amount of trepidation, for he hated to be alone in this place, but he could not very well wait in Childermass’ rooms while he bathed, and so Segundus went next door to his own suite. 

He was pleased, but not very surprised to find that his room had all the same accommodations as Childermass’ with one important difference. There were clothes laid out upon his bed. There may have been similar clothes upon Childermass’ bed but he had not noticed them. Upon closer inspection, they appeared to be a pair of breeches, a fine silk shirt, a beautifully made waistcoat and a well tailored jacket, along with the finest pair of silk stockings he had ever laid eyes upon and a smart pair of dark, heeled shoes. All were in subtle shades of silver and gray, all appeared to be of a style that had been popular several decades ago. Segundus ran his hands over the clothing in wonder. They were clearly intended for him, but they were of a fine quality of the likes he had never seen before. Fit for a prince. 

He let the clothing be for a moment and went to his own special, tiled bathing room. After stripping and washing himself most enjoyably and more thoroughly than perhaps ever before in his life, smelling of rose scented soap, and feeling quite refreshed, he returned to the neatly folded pile of his own, travel stained clothes upon the bed. He looked longingly over at the new, princely clothing, then back at his own, rather threadbare, patched and somewhat smelly clothes.  _ Well, _ he thought practically,  _ it is unlikely that fairy clothing is as enchanted as fairy food and drink.  _ Upon investigating them further, the clothes did not seem to have any magical component to them, none that his finely tuned senses could detect at any rate. He put them on carefully and with no small amount of pleasure. The silken shirt and fine breeches and silk stockings felt oh so soft against his skin, and the waistcoat, which buttoned down to his lower belly, in a style that while it was several decades out of fashion, was perfectly tailored to fit his waist and shoulders. He put the jacket on and tied the gleaming white neckcloth in place, and then went to look at himself in a tall mirror that hung on the door of the bath chamber. 

He was shocked to see an affluent, handsome man looking back at him. This man was not someone familiar to Segundus. He appeared to have money and influence, and the strands of silver in his dark hair were set off quite nicely by the silver and dark gray of the clothing he wore. The man in the mirror blushed. 

By this time, dinner was surely ready to be served, and so Segundus went back to Childermass’ room and knocked upon the door. The door swung open and Segundus barely suppressed a gasp of surprise when he saw Childermass, standing there in his own new set of clothing. He was dressed all in black, with a black jacket, black waistcoat, and black breeches. These were complemented nicely by a royal blue coloured silk shirt and cream coloured silk stockings and his own snow white neck cloth. His hair was freshly washed and tied back from his face, and  _ oh my _ he looked quite regal, and very, very important, yet also a touch dangerous. Segundus had never seen him so finely attired, as he preferred to keep to his own rather shabby and outdated clothing, and the difference was incredibly striking. Childermass looked like a prince.

“I...I see you too have been gifted some new clothing Mr. Childermass,” Segundus managed to say after a moment or two of gawking at his companion. He was feeling suddenly quite light headed in the presence of this finely dressed person. 

For a long moment, Childermass did not speak. His eyes roamed over Segundus’ face and form, and there was a surprised look in his eyes that turned swiftly to an intense, wondrous sort of scrutiny that made Segundus feel all flushed and warm. “You look…” Childermass began, and then seemed to lose momentum before trying a second time. “You look, quite handsome Mr. Segundus,” he managed, and the warmth Segundus felt increased tenfold. 

“Thank you Mr. Childermass,” he mumbled. “You do as well. Quite handsome.” 

They were then interrupted by a fairy servant, who arrived to show them to the dining hall. As they walked, side by side, close together down the seemingly endless halls, festooned with impressive tapestries, Segundus thought he could feel a strong emotion from Childermass through the bond they shared. It was a pulsing sort of heat. A pulling, tugging sensation that made Segundus glad that they were no longer looking at one another, for it called to an answering place inside him that was echoing such a feeling. Could it be… desire? Could Childermass… desire him? 

This thought set off a reaction inside him which set his mind ablaze with quite vivid imaginings of what it might be like to experience that shared desire through certain actions Segundus had not quite let himself imagine before this moment. He grew very hot indeed beneath his shirt and found that he was fighting a sudden urge to grasp Childermass by the hand, to pull the other man into his arms and kiss him. To press their bodies together, and to trade these delicious, somewhat frightening feelings back and forth between them. 

He cleared his throat and shook his head a little, admonishing himself for his foolishness. It was more likely that he was imagining such things, rather than that they were a shared emotion through their magical connexion. Why would Childermass desire him? He was only a scrawny schoolmaster of middling years. He was not particularly handsome, nor particularly clever. And did Childermass even desire other men the way that Segundus so secretly did? To presume such a thing was not prudent. Segundus strove valiantly to put thoughts of falling into Childermass’ welcoming arms and kissing him from his mind. Even  _ if _ the other man felt such unlikely urges toward Segundus, even if it were not some sort of imagining of Segundus’ own invention that he was attributing to the other man, now was absolutely not the time to indulge in such fantasies. They were inside a fairy brugh, on their way to a public dinner. He cast a sideways glance at Childermass and caught the man looking back at him with dark, smouldering eyes, and his breath caught in his throat. 

He had no time to think about this however, as just then, the fairy servant led them through a large stone archway and into the vast dining hall they had encountered when first entering the brugh. Many fairy ladies and gentlemen were seated around the long table, chatting and laughing and all dressed in the finest clothing imaginable. At the head of the table sat Princess Adreana and her brother Prince Alder. To the princess’ right side sat Cecilia, looking resplendent in a red silk gown, her hair still done up with the white roses from earlier that day. Next to her, looking for all the world like a drab sparrow in comparison to a vibrant cardinal, sat Rosalind, still in her travel dress. 

Great platters of food were already being passed around the table. The servant shewed Segundus to a chair to Prince Alder’s left, and Childermass sat to Segundus’ left. The Prince looked Segundus up and down with blatant appraisal as he took his seat. 

“Mr. Segundus sir!” he exclaimed cheerfully, but with a glint of predatory hunger to his tone that made Segundus decidedly uncomfortable, “you look quite striking this evening! Do you like the clothing that we provided for you?” 

“Yes, very much sir, thank you” Segundus replied with a polite nod of his head. “In truth I have never worn such fine clothing in all my life.” 

No one thought to remark on Childermass’ appearance, but he did not seem to notice or to care. 

“Oh sirs!” exclaimed Cecilia, her face aglow with happiness, her hand interlaced with the hand of the princess at her side. “You simply must sample some of the fairy feast! The food here is among the most delicious I’ve ever tasted.” 

Segundus opened his mouth to reply, but Childermass cut in and responded for them both. “I beg your pardon Miss Cecilia, your highnesses, but we are feeling a little ill from our travels and we are not at all hungry. Your hospitality is much appreciated. Perhaps later, when our stomachs have settled, we shall have some food.”

It was a polite reply, and one which effectively silenced their requests that the Englishmen partake in the feast, and Segundus nodded along with Childermass’ words and tried to school his face into an expression of mild nausea. He was impressed continually by Childermass’ ability to act diplomatically and cleverly during their time within the brugh. He had thought the man had possessed the diplomatic skills of a hammer before this mission began, and was slowly learning that perhaps stealing books and shutting down magical societies had not been the entirety of the things Childermass had learned while working for Mr. Norrell. 

“Ah, I see. Well then, we shall enjoy it for you,” replied Lady Adreana, not looking particularly put out by their abstention from eating. Prince Alder however was now wearing a rather bitter and disappointed expression. He seemed to rally quickly though, and poured some dark red liquid into a crystal goblet by Segundus’ plate. 

“Surely a drink will not affect you too negatively?” he asked, his voice soft and his ice blue cat’s eyes searching Segundus’ face. “It is only wine, and will help to sooth and settle your 

constitution.” 

Segundus was struck momentarily mute by the fairy’s intense gaze and solicitous offer of wine. He opened his mouth to respond, but again, Childermass interrupted and spoke for him. “The gentleman does not want any wine, your highness,” he said, with a glimmer of threat to his voice that Segundus could clearly detect, even in his mildly addled state.

“The gentleman is just that sir. A  _ man _ , and he has the right to make such decisions for himself, does he not?” Prince Alder raised a dark brow and fixed Childermass with an arch look. “Unless,” he added, “I had your ages quite confused and you sir are his father or his uncle, rather than simply his travel companion.” 

“I do not want any wine thank you!” Segundus exclaimed, perhaps a little too loudly and suddenly, for he sorely wanted to avoid the building tension between Childermass and Prince Alder. The two were arguing over him as if he wasn’t there. “I am perfectly capable of thinking and speaking for myself, thank you Mr. Childermass,” here, he nodded at Childermass curtly, “and I do not at all wish to eat or drink anything this evening, thank you, your highness.” Here he nodded quite firmly in Prince Alder’s direction. 

Both man and fairy got rather dark, glum looks on their faces, but they ceased their escalating feud and sat forward in their chairs. Childermass seemed very agitated, and would not look at Segundus. He was unaccountably tetchy, folding his arms across his chest and keeping his eyes trained at the empty china plate in front of him. 

Prince Alder on the other hand seemed to rally quickly and turned back to Segundus after only a brief pout. “Tell me Mr. Segundus,” he purred. “What is your vocation?” His stunning eyes stared unblinking into Segundus’ own in a very intimate manner indeed. Segundus gulped and grew warm under the scrutiny. 

“I..I am a schoolmaster. At a school for magicians,” he said, hoping that this would not put him in ill standing with the fairy prince. But Alder only smiled in response. 

“How fascinating!” he exclaimed, then, leaning a little closer to Segundus, he dropped his voice a little lower before asking, “and are you a very  _ strict _ school master?” The prince’s eyes flared just a little, and so did his very elegant nostrils, and then his eyes narrowed again on Segundus’ face.

Segundsus had the distinct feeling that there was something of an improper element to the fairy’s question, in the same way he knew that certain passages of Shakespear were saucier than the mere words led one to believe. He swallowed nervously again and cleared his throat. “N-no sir,” he stammered, cringing inside at how clearly inexperienced and skittish he sounded. “I am very fair minded and I strive to be as kind and equitable as I can be in the execution of my duties.” 

This response only seemed to make Prince Alder’s smile grow wider. “Is that so?” he said. “And is there a lucky lady, anxiously awaiting your return home?” 

Segundus felt his face go very hot indeed. He was unsure of how to respond to such a question, so the truth seemed the best tack to take. “No...not as such,” he responded. Next to him, Childermass made a grunting sound that Segundus knew was a noise of distinct disapproval, but Segundus had already told him that he could speak for himself, and so he could hardly expect to turn to Childermass for help with the nosy prince. A prince who was currently pinning him in his seat with eyes like the frozen surface of a winter lake. 

“Oh well, then perhaps there is a handsome gentleman?” The prince replied. And Segundus felt himself go shivery inside as Alder smiled a somewhat pointy, extremely handsome smile. He felt the prince’s little finger brush against his own where his hand rested on the table between them, and he jumped a bit in response. 

Now he did turn around in his seat a little to look at Childermass. Perhaps to bring up another topic of conversation and draw his traveling companion onto the sphere of he and Alder’s very uncomfortable and intimate exchange. To possibly lighten the mood. Unfortunately, Childermass was gone. Segundus felt a small stab of panic at discovering Childermass’ absence, and, after a quick search of the ballroom, saw him several seats away, in intense conversation with a fairy diplomat of some sort. A gentleman with many strange looking medals pinned to the chest who wore an unusual uniform, of a strange, iridescent blue color, the likes of which Segundus had never seen before. 

Feeling just a little abandoned, and more than a little dismayed about what to do with the very forward, if not entirely unappealing manner in which Prince Alder was flirting with him, Segundus turned back around again with a frustrated sigh. “No, there is no gentleman awaiting me at home,” he said, wishing it were more in his nature to lie, so that he could make up some pining betrothed that would effectively take him off the market and perhaps persuade Prince Alder to stop looking at him with that predatory glint in his eye. He did not find the prince’s attention completely unwanted. It was flattering, and exciting to a degree, but also, it was more than Segundus’ previous experience had prepared him for, and he felt rather off balance and quite nervous under Alder’s scrutiny. 

“That is very interesting indeed.” Alder leaned in and placed his hand over Segundus’ hand and Segundus felt a volley of sparks light up in his skin at the contact. “I would think, a handsome man such as yourself would not lack for suitors.” With his other hand, he reached out to a nearby vase of exotic and beautiful flowers and plucked a red rose from the bunch. It was ordinary in shape and color, but twice as large as any rose Segundus had ever had occasion to see, and the velvet surface of its petals sparkled gently with some sort of fine shimmering powder. Prince Alder looked down at the bloom, cupped now in the palm of his hand, the stem hanging between his long, pale fingers and sighed in a dramatic fashion. “It has been a long time since I had the pleasure of courting a mate as beautiful as you, Mr. Segundus, schoolmaster of England,” he said. And then he held the rose up between their faces and blew gently upon it. 

The sparkling dust that adorned the rose drifted through the air on the Princes’ breath and broke gently against Segundus’ face. He was strangely charmed and transfixed for a moment on the Fairy’s glowing, ice blue eyes that were still trained upon his own. It did not occur to him that perhaps some magic had been done at first, until he felt a familiar tingling sensation behind his eyes. But at that point, it was too late. In the end, he had not needed to eat or drink anything at all in order to be enchanted by fairy magic.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit of non-con/dub con involved in this chapter. Nothing too heavy, but felt it was worth a mention.

Segundus was dimly aware that something wasn’t quite right, but that feeling was receding swiftly behind a wall of flushing, burning, twisting lust as he gazed into the now triumphant eyes of the fairy prince. “Oh my!” he exclaimed. “Perhaps, Prince Alder, if you were so inclined...we could...retire somewhere private?” He asked, hardly believing the words coming from his mouth. At the same time though, he felt that he might go mad if he did not touch this beautiful creature. He was suddenly and completely erect inside his breeches and his body felt as if he had a bad fever, only the heat coursing through his veins was good, and he felt not at all sickly.. 

Alder smiled a wicked smile. “Why Mr. Segundus, you’ve grown quite forward.” 

“I feel that if I do not touch you, and soon, that I shall lose my senses,” Segundus felt it strange that he did not experience any shame at saying such forward things to an almost complete stranger, but in that moment, this mattered very little. He saw Prince Alder’s eyes flick over his shoulder to look at someone behind Segundus, but he did not care at who or why he had done so. 

“I think I would be happy to go away with you to my chambers, but only if you were to kiss me here, in front of the fairy company first.” Alder purred at him. “Just one kiss, to shew me that you are indeed serious about wanting to go away. I am quite shy you see, and I need evidence of your ardor if we are to excuse ourselves and go somewhere private.” 

Segundus knew in a small part of his mind, that kissing another male person (or anyone in fact) so blatantly, in front of a large room full of witnesses was a thing he would never have done before, but also, he knew that he was a different man since they’d entered Faerie. He was an adventurer now, was he not? A dashing man of mystery, just like….just like… well… like someone he knew but whose face he could not now recall. He could do things like kiss a fairy prince upon the mouth in front of a table full of dinner guests if he felt like it. And yes, he very much felt like it.

Without hesitating a moment more, Segundus leaned forward and pressed his lips to Alder’s and brought his hands up to frame the prince’s face. The fairy’s lips were oh so soft and silky feeling against his own and he let out a low whimper at the explosion of lust that bloomed deep inside him as the fairy kissed him back. Alder parted his lips just slightly and the soft tip of his tongue probed against Segundus’ lips, nudging them gently open and finding its way inside Segundus’ mouth. Segundus felt his eyes roll back in his head, and he made another desperate noise and kissed the fairy back with feverish enthusiasm. 

Far too quickly, Prince Alder was pushing him gently away, breaking the searing hot, tingling sensations caused by their kiss. Segundus almost wept with disappointment. Somewhere in the distance, he could hear someone urgently calling his name, and he hoped that this person, whoever they were, did not wish to pull him away from the prince. To prevent this very thing from happening, he attempted to wrap his arms around Alder’s neck and cling to him. Alder chuckled indulgently and rose, half carrying Segundus up and out of his chair with him. “Patience my pretty little schoolmaster,” he said softly. “Soon, you may kiss me to your heart’s content inside my bedchamber.” 

The prince grasped Segundus by the hand and pulled him toward an archway exiting the dining hall. Segundus felt a joyful sort of anticipation at the thought of what might be about to transpire when he and this beautiful prince were alone together. His happy feelings were curtailed momentarily however by someone grabbing ahold of him by his arm and attempting (quite rudely) to pull him back, away from Alder. He turned and saw a familiar face, perhaps of someone he knew quite well, yet whose name he could not quite recall. A man in dark clothing who was not nearly as handsome as his lovely prince, was standing there, yelling something mean and disrespectful to Segundus and trying to pull him back to the dining hall. 

Prince Alder released his hand and stood, his own hands raised in a parody of helplessness. “Mr. Childermass!” he exclaimed, “Your friend has expressed a strong urge to engage me in some private conversation in my bedchambers. You are being very rude to try and detain him.”  
Segundus nodded and turned a very disapproving and angry look in the dark gentleman’s direction. 

“Yes sir,” he agreed. “You are being very rude. I wish to be alone with my lover and you are attempting to pull me away, and that is quite unforgivable. Please go away and leave me in peace!”

A hurt look passed over the other man’s features, and Segundus felt a small pang of pity that he had been so harsh, but even so, this rude gentleman with his dark eyes was attempting to ruin the beautiful connexion he had found with his handsome prince. 

The dark haired, dark eyed man ignored him and stepped closer, clasping Segundus’ hand in his own. “Don’t do this,” he pleaded. “Can you not see that you’ve been enchanted?” and for a moment, Segundus felt a sort of clarity of thought descend upon him. 

“Mr. Childermass?” he said, finally recognizing who it was that was gripping his hand so tightly. He would have said something else had not Childermass been pushed back and away from him by some unseen force and had not gone sprawling across the floor of the dining hall, and as his hand was ripped from Segundus’ hand, so too went the sense of familiarity and of clear headedness that had prevailed when they’d been in contact. Segundus felt that perhaps this should be concerning, for the dark haired stranger now lay, unmoving, with his eyes closed, upon the floor. Segundus could hear other voices, women’s voices, yelling, but he did not care. He did not care that this ill-mannered gentleman was now lying, unconscious on the floor, or that he could hear the voices of women calling his name. He turned and followed Prince Alder from the dining hall. 

Soon, but not soon enough for Segundus, Prince Alder was welcoming him into a spacious, lushly appointed bedchamber and shutting and locking the door behind them. And then he was in the prince’s arms and their mouths were pressed together, and for a little while, Segundus could do nothing but moan and try to lay his hands upon as much of Prince Alder’s body as he could. The fairy prince was slender and his limbs and torso were finely shaped and underlaid with a thick layer of muscle that could clearly be felt through the rather thin material of his silken clothing. Segundus let his hands roam across the fairy princes’ back and down over his firm buttocks and heard himself make a noise that under any other circumstances would have embarrassed him very much indeed. 

Alder hummed in pleasure and grinned against Segundus’ mouth. “Such an eager little Englishman,” he murmured. “Would you like me to remove my clothing so that you may explore further, unhindered?”

“Oh yes please your highness!” Segundus thought that he never wanted anything so much as he wanted to feel his fingertips against this beautiful creature’s flesh. As the prince worked to undo the buttons of his own waistcoat and then his shirt, Segundus drove questing fingers up into Alder’s thick, lustrous, dark hair. This action reminded him vaguely of something. Of someone else who also had long, dark hair, though it was more ragged than Prince Alder’s silken locks. Someone with a twisted smile and smouldering dark eyes. He shook his head, unsettled by these memories and turned his attentions to kissing the prince’s neck, hoping to banish confusing thoughts of anyone but his current lover. 

Still, the imaginings persisted. This neck beneath his lips reminded him that he had quite recently longed to kiss another man in such a fashion. A man who was shorter perhaps and less polished than the dashing prince. A man he knew well…

“You are distracted,” the prince remarked when Segundus ceased lavishing his long, pale neck with kisses and pulled back, feeling uncertain. 

“There is someone else I was thinking of,” Segundus mumbled, taking a small half step back from the prince, whose shirt now fell halfway open to reveal a swath of pale, hairless chest. “Someone else that I love…” 

The fairy prince became intent all of a sudden and grasped Segundus by the face. “You love no one but me!” he said, quite forcefully, and crashed their mouths back together. But at this point, Segundus was almost certain that there was another pair of lips he had dreamed of kissing, and that those lips did not belong to Prince Alder. 

He twisted his mouth free from the prince’s and placed hands upon Alder’s chest to push him away, shaking his head in confusion. “No!” he yelled. “No, I love someone else! I do not love you sir!”

At that moment, there was a loud pounding upon the prince’s chamber door, and Segundus could hear a much-muffled but very familiar voice calling his name. “Mr. Segundus! Please! Mr. Segundus! Open the door! It is Childermass! You have been enchanted!”

“Pay him no mind,” Alder said swiftly, maintaining his grip on Segundus’ face and steering his eyes back to the prince’s intense gaze. “He is only jealous and will give up and go away if we do not answer.”

“That is...that is Mr. Childermass,” Segundus whispered, feeling comprehension drawing through the haze of lust and confusion he had labored under until now. “That is my friend.” 

“He means nothing to you!” insisted Prince Alder vehemently, and Segundus could hear a thread of panic wending its way through the fairy’s voice. “He is worthless! He means nothing!” As if to underlay his words, the banging upon the door had not ceased, had only grown louder, and Childermass had not stopped calling his name in desperation. 

For some reason the fairy’s insistence that Mr. Childermass meant nothing to him, caused a missing piece of some very old puzzle to click gently into place inside Segundus’ mind and heart. All of a sudden, the full force of his feelings hit him, as if he had been struck by lightning. “I am in love with him,” he said wondrously. And it was true. He was madly, deeply, irrevocably in love with John Childermass. The flood of fully realized feelings broke through the haze of the fairy enchantments, and he gasped at the simple power of it. “I am very much in love with him sir. Please release me so that I may open the door and go to him.” 

Before he could be released however, the prince’s face transformed itself into a rictus of rage, and then a moment later, the latch on the door to his bedchamber clicked, the door flew open and Childermass strode into the room.

“Mr. Segundus!” he yelled.

“Mr. Childermass!” Segundus answered. 

Prince Alder turned, raising his hand in Childermass’ direction, and Segundus felt the build up of some magic spell tingling behind his eyes. “Watch out Mr. Childermass!” He shouted. But Childermass it appeared, was prepared to do battle, for he mumbled a few quick words and raised his own hand and the prince froze in place, as if time had stopped. Segundus stared in awe at the statue that had once been a moving, threatening fairy prince, but he did not have time to stare for long before Childermass had grabbed him by the hand and pulled him from the bedchamber. 

“Mr. Childermss! Oh I cannot tell you how glad I am to see you sir!” Segundus babbled wildly as they ran from the chamber and down a nearby hallway. “I am not quite certain what happened before this moment, for I am very muddle headed.”

“One could say that, yes,” Childermass’ voice was stern and cynical as he continued pulling Segundus after him down hallway after hallway. “You were very deeply enchanted somehow, and I will need to ask you the why and how of it, but not until we are safe in my chambers.” 

Segundus dutifully kept his mouth shut, and after a few more turns and a few more headlong rushes down dark hallways, they at last found themselves at Childermass’ bedchamber door. Childermass pushed Segundus inside and shut and locked the door behind them, only to find himself immediately pressed up against it as Segundus, overcome with emotion, took Childermass’ face in his hands and kissed him. 

Childermass made a surprised noise, and for a moment he froze beneath Segundus’ lips, but then, Segundus felt himself spun about quite roughly and suddenly, it was his turn to be pressed against the door, and Childermass was kissing him back very ardently. Segundus felt his heart burst into song and his body was instantly shot through with a sharp pang of lust as the kiss grew deeper. He heard Childermass make the sweetest little moaning noise in the back of his throat, and he answered it with a whimper of his own as they pressed their bodies forcefully together and kissed with abandon. 

Quite suddenly however, Childermass stopped kissing him and pulled back, panting and flushed to look intently into his yes. “You are enchanted,” he said, his eyes searching Segundus’ face and his own features swiftly rearranging themselves into an expression of deep hurt. “This is not how you truly feel sir.” To Segundus’ incredible disappointment, he stepped back again and removed his hands from Segundus’ hair, when just seconds before he had been softly grabbing fistfuls of it. 

“No! Mr. Childermass please. I assure you that my heart-” 

“You are in no state to remark upon the condition of your heart sir,” Childermass said sharply, stepping further away from him and clearly working to calm himself. “I have taken advantage of your enchantment, and for that I beg you to forgive me. I should have known better, only I was overcome by, by…” 

“I am not enchanted!” Segundus exclaimed, just beginning to feel a little insulted at Childermass’ insistence that he could not decide for himself whom he wanted to kiss. “The enchantment has worn off sir. If you would but allow me to express to you the true nature of my feelings.”

“Please,” Childermass held up his hand and backed further away. The look in his eyes was breaking Segundus’ heart in two. “Please do not speak of feelings now sir. Wait some time and then we may revisit the subject at a later date, once you are fully recovered. I can taste the magic upon you still sir. I cannot...I will not take you at your word until it is gone.” 

“I see, you do not trust me,” Segundus felt perhaps unnecessarily frustrated and disappointed. All he wanted was to show Childermass the depths of his affections, and it seemed, from the warm welcome he received initially (which was still making his knees quite weak with the recent memories of it) that his friend and traveling companion might return some of his feelings. But now, Childermass had backed away considerably, put space between them and was looking at Segundus with wounded eyes. “If it is that you think I desire prince Alder..” he added, trying to convince Childermass, even after promising to let it be. 

Childermass strode up to him suddenly, and grasped him by the shoulders. “It is not that I think you desire Prince Alder!” he said gruffly. “It is that I know you do. We are bonded by magic remember? I felt it, before he even had a chance to enchant you. And I saw you throw yourself at him, so pardon me sir, if perhaps I am doubtful of the strength of your feelings while you still have his corruptive mark upon you. And above and beyond that, it is not my business whom you wish to kiss or lie with. Now please. Let us move forward from this.”

Segundus could feel Childermass’ flush of anger, and suddenly, his dour mood at dinner made more sense. He had been sitting near Segundus. Their bond allowed feelings to flow back and forth between them quite clearly when they were within a small distance of each other. And the salacious desires Segundus had felt for the prince, even as he had first sat down at the table, Childermass must have felt them. Segundus flushed with shame. “Oh, I see,” he said softly. 

There was a knock at the door. A rather frantic knock. Childermass strode past him and asked “who is it?” 

“It is Rosalind sirs!”

Childermass opened the door at once and both men were a little surprised to see three ladies enter, for Rosalind had brought Cecilia and Lady Adreana with her. 

“Please do not be concerned sirs,” Rosalind was quick “Lady Adreana has cast her lot in with ours against her brother.” 

“It is true,” the princess said, “I have never trusted my brother and only tolerate his presence because I must. Because he has half a claim to the throne of our lands.”

“And how do we know you were not sent here with some sort of secret vengeance from the very person you claim to distrust?” Childermass was eyeing her with suspicion, and though he did have a right to second guess the Lady’s motives, it occurred suddenly to Segundus that Childermass had been betrayed quite bitterly and suddenly in his past, and that thought made a flush of sympathy and shame well up inside him for the other man. 

“She tells the truth Mr. Childermass!” this from Cecilia who held Lady Adreana’s hand in her own and who was glaring at Childermass like a protective lioness. “I have heard her tell me many times of her distrust for her scheming, devious brother.”

“We do not have time for me to prove my allegiance,” Lady Adreana said with an impatient wave of her hand. “They are coming to imprison you both, and perhaps worse. Alder told the fairy assemblage that Childermass and Segundus attacked him.” 

“It was the other way around!” Segundus exclaimed. He enchanted me and tried to...well...tried to….”

“He tried to take undue advantage,” finished Childermass with a dark look in his eyes. “When I tried to stop Segundus from going off with him, Alder is the one who first attacked me, by knocking me down with fairy magic.” This he explained to Segundus, who had clearly been too insensible at the time to realize what had been done to Childermass. “The ladies woke me up and got me back on my feet,” he said, then turning to the ladies in question, he filled them in on what had happened in the prince’s bedchambers. That Alder had tried to force himself upon Mr. Segundus and that Childermass had cast a brief spell of immobility, only so that he could pull Segundus away and escape with him. “That is all,” he finished. “I have never raised a hand in violence against him.” 

“That sounds like Alder,” Adreana replied with an angry glint in her yellow, feline eyes. She rushed to lock the door and turned back with a hard, determined look on her face. “ We must find some way to hold them off, for I fear it is too late to flee.” 

As if her words had called them into being, the sound of hurried footsteps echoed in the hall outside Childermass’ door could be heard, and then a loud banging. “Open up! Open up at the request of the Duchess Lythotainia!” Came an imperious female voice from the other side. 

“Oh no,” lamented Adreana. “It is my aunt. She is worse than Alder, for she has had far longer to practice being a horrid witch.” 

“We may bar the doors with magic,” Childermass suggested, casting a sideways glance at Segundus. “Do you know Gregory Absalom’s spell for reinforcing barriers sir?” 

Segundus nodded. “I have only used it once, and it caused a blinding headache, but I can do it.” 

“Your bond will help,” Adreana added, “It will double the strength of any magic done while you are joined.” 

“Excellent,” Childermass said, reaching out a hand to Segundus and walking quickly over to the door.

“If you do not open up at once, I shall enter by force!” the voice on the other side of the door had taken on a decidedly sharp tone. The tone of a person who was very much used to having their wishes granted immediately. 

Segundus quickly joined Childermass where he had his right hand placed upon the wood of the door and clasped his left hand, he then placed his free hand on the door as well. He instantly felt several feelings coming to him through the bond, a glimmer of fear, a sharp edge of determination, and beneath all of that, a whisper of hurt. 

“Repeat the words after me,” Childermass said and began chanting the words of the spell. Segundus repeated them as he’d been asked, being very careful to say every syllable clearly and concisely. Soon, the door began to glow faintly beneath their hands. This had never happened before, and Segundus tried not to let his surprise distract him from the recitation. 

Outside, the Lady Lythonia had gone silent, which was likely not a good sign. Soon, he and Childermass had finished Gregory Absalom’s spell and both stood back, though, as if by mutual agreement, neither let go of the other’s hand. They backed away from the door, indicating to the ladies with frantic motions of their free hands that they should back away as well. 

Segundus felt a powerful surge of magic from the other side, felt it ripping through their barriers as a knife through spider web. “She means to blow the door!” he yelled. “Everyone! Guard yourselves!” He had just enough time to see the ladies run for cover behind Childermass’ bed before he wrapped his arms around Childermass’ waist and knocked the two of them to the ground. He heard a deafening boom and then a rush of air, and felt Childermass struggling for a moment beneath him, before the world went dark.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooo, touchmytardis remarked that he wished maybe Segundus and Childermass and Prince Alder had ended up having a threesome, and I wrote it. I thought it was an excellent prompt and a very fun idea indeed. If you want to read the VERY explicit, Filthy Fairy Fucking Ficlet I wrote, please do!
> 
> https://archiveofourown.org/works/25783261


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw: some minor violence
> 
> also, gratuitous fluff

Segundus woke with a blinding headache. Being a magician who suffered from the execution of magic, this was not an uncommon way for him to wake, but he soon realized that a very thick cord of rope was binding him upright across his chest, and this _was_ rather unusual. His eyes flew open. He was tied tightly to the back of a stone chair and he heard voices coming from somewhere nearby. A man and a woman’s voice, and from the echoing, ringing quality of them, he could tell they were Fae folk. He moved his head, wincing in pain, to look around him and immediately saw Childermass, unconscious still and tied to his own chair, sitting not half a foot to his right. 

“Your plaything is awake,” he heard an imperious female voice say, and within moments, he was confronted by Prince Alder, and a rather tall and elegant lady with flame red hair in a gray silk gown who must be Duchess Lythotainia. They walked around from somewhere behind the chairs where he and Childermass were tied and stood, hands on hips, looking down at him. Both of them wearing disapproving expressions upon their faces, as if he were an errant child who had been caught stealing sweets, rather than someone they had abducted and tied to a chair. “You’ve caused me quite a bit of trouble,” the lady said coldly. 

“ _I_ ? _I_ have caused _you_ trouble?” Incredulity mixed unpleasantly with Segundus’ fear as he glared angrily up at the duchess. “My lady, I am tied to a chair, after having been enchanted and pawed at by your nephew against my will!” Raising his voice made it feel like there were hot sewing needles being driven into Segundus’ temples, but his anger at this horrid pair of villains made him disregard his pain. “Where are the ladies? Where is Rosalind and Cecilia and Lady Adreana!?”

Lythotainia ignored his question. “To hear Alder explain it, _he_ was not the one doing the pawing, but regardless, he has taken a fancy to you, and I do so enjoy spoiling my favorite nephew,” the lady replied with a smile that did not reach her green eyes. 

Realizing that arguing with them would get him nowhere, Segundus turned his head to look at Childermass, who still sat, slumped and unconscious at his side. “Mr. Childermass!” he said as loudly as he could, flinching at the pain in his head. “Mr. Childermass wake up!”

Childermass moaned and his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks. Soon, he wore the same, pained expression as Segundus and was blinking his eyes open blearily in the dim light of the bare room where they were bound. “What...what has happened?” he said, his voice a rasping, ragged thing. Then he squinted up at the two fairies that stood before them and he let out another dismayed moan. “Oh, this is not good,” he mumbled. 

Beyond relieved that Childermass was alright, and somewhat back to his usual self, Segundus turned back to their fairy captors. “Set us free this instant!” he demanded. “You cannot keep us here, tied against our will!”

“Oh we can and we shall,” replied Alder, grinning in a way that made Segundus’ insides go cold. I wish to keep you as my special pet, and we both are rather keen on disposing of your... _friend_. We shall break your bond and then we shall kill him in front of you. I am certain that will remind you how to be compliant and do as you’re told. For if I grow tired of you, you shall meet the same fate.”

Segundus felt the cold fear in his belly solidify into a ball of leaden despair, but beyond his fear, something about the fairy prince’s words caught and held in his mind. “Why have you not broken the bond already?” He asked. “We were asleep and defenseless. Surely it would be easier to do such a thing while we were unconscious, rather than waiting for us to wake and try to defend ourselves.” 

Both fairies looked satisfyingly taken aback by his question. “There is little chance of that,” remarked Lythotainia, in a brusque, dismissive manner. “We have put spells upon you both to prevent you from doing magic to free yourselves or to harm us.” She again ignored his question, seeming to answer half of of what he’d said. Another clue.

Segundus could sense that what they said about the magic was true. It was likely why his head was pounding so abominably. His senses felt fuzzy and indistinct about the edges, as if someone had wrapped a scarf around his face. Add to that the fact that both he and Childermass had likely hit their heads against the floor when he had tackled the other man to the ground to save him from the imploding door, and his miserable state was quite easily explained. 

“My guess,” rasped Childermass from his chair, “is that they could not do it. That for some reason, the bond has grown too strong, and they will attempt to see if our being awake will help with the severing of the connexion.” Speaking clearly pained him as it pained Segundus, and Segundus could feel a faint echo of his discomfort through their bond. His heart twisted in sympathy. 

“Shut up both of you!” yelled Alder, looking apoplectic at their apparently clever guess work. 

Segundus meanwhile was unaccountably pleased to hear that their bond had grown stronger, and in a flash, he realized, down deep in his bones, that he did not want it broken. That he would quite happily share this deep connexion with Childermass indefinitely. 

“Try it again Aunt, for I am certain your suspicions, will prove correct.” Alder’s voice was tight with rage. He was clearly made very angry at Childermass’ cleverness. 

Lythotainia stepped closer and held out a hand toward the space between where Childermass and Segundus sat, tied to their chairs. She closed her eyes and muttered some words in a language that Segundus did not recognize, and he felt the air around his right hand grow a little warmer in response. Feeling a stab of panic, he quickly closed his eyes in order to see their bond with his second sight. It remained thick and strong and glowing, connecting their two hands together just as he had seen it do in the tunnel on their way into the fairy brugh. Other than the small increase in temperature, nothing changed. Segundus could still sense Childermass’ apprehension and exhaustion through the bond, but now, there was a spark of hope mixed in with the negative feelings. He opened his eyes and looked up at a very angry Lythotainia.

“You cannot break it,” Childermass said, and Segundus felt the spark of hope catch fire and build into a small flame. “You would have by now if you could, for you know it makes us stronger, but you cannot.” 

“But that is not possible!” Lythotainia yelled, her voice growing fearful around the edges of her rage. “All marriage bonds are quite easily broken if one uses the Spell of Unbinding and severs the connection. I have done the spell several times and yet the bond persists!” She turned to her nephew in frustration as if this present situation were his fault. “I thought you said they were simple, country northerners with not much power! How is it that they are now under a Royal Bond of marriage!”

“A royal bond?” Segundus, despite his fear and his pounding head, was curious. He had thought their accidental union a thing easily done and easily undone. It had been a mistake after all. A thing neither of them had expected. How now had it become somehow unbreakable...and... _royal_. 

“Unlike English marriages, the only fairy marriages that are permanent are royal ones,” Childermass spoke up. “I read it in one of Norrell’s books, long ago. Perhaps Godbless? Or Stokesey? If you are a fairy royal, of a royal house, your marriage is for life. This is likely why his highness here is so upset by Cecilia marrying into the family. Once she is wed to his sister, the marriage cannot be annulled. Not by magical force. Only by death. And fairy tribunals do not look kindly upon those who murder members of royal families for their own capricious purposes.” 

“Except no tribunal will punish us for killing one useless Englishman,” replied Prince Alder with a vicious gleam in his eyes. “This little problem can easily be remedied with the use of a sharp blade.” He turned his attention to Childermass, and Segundus spoke up quickly, hoping to distract him.

“Neither of us are of royal blood. You are correct,” he said, and both pairs of very sharp eyes turned in his direction instead, and he felt himself relax infinitesimally, though he still grew a little faint under their predatory scrutiny. He continued nonetheless. “We are but simple northern Englishmen, not of noble birth, and so how is our bond explained?”

The fairy Duchess strode over to Segundus and slapped him, hard across the face. Segundus cried out at the pain and felt a flash of sudden rage through the bond that connected him to Childermass, Childermass who was now struggling in vain against the ropes that bound him to his chair and uttering some very choice expletives about what he’d do to her once he freed himself. Lythotainia grabbed a fistful of Segundus’ hair and yanked his head back and peered sharply into his wide, terrified eyes. “Who are your parents?! Were you adopted? Were you found as a child?! Tell me!”

Segundus was stunned, but he managed to speak, if only to delay Childermass’ inevitable execution. “They were simple folk!” he gasped. “My father was a banker and my mother a seamstress! They were not of fairy blood in the slightest and neither am I!”

“And you?!” Lythontainia snapped and a long, thin blade appeared in her hand. She took a step and it was at Childermass’ throat. “Tell me who your parents were, your grandparents. If you lie, I will know and we will make this other one a widower very quickly.”

Childermass looked at her with blatant, simmering rage, but he spoke nonetheless. “My mother was a woman of questionable repute. I never knew my father. My mother’s parents died when she was a small girl and she was raised by a distant cousin. I’ve told you all that I know. Now set us free.”

“And yet, one of you is most definitely of royal blood!” Lythotainia pressed the blade a little further against Childermass’ throat and Segundus could see Childermass wince as it pierced his skin, could see a small droplet of blood trickle it’s way down his neck.

“Don’t you dare hurt him!” Segundus was surprised at the sheer force of his own anger and desperation. “He has done nothing wrong!” He pulled against his ropes, trying his best to break free, but he was tied too tightly.

He would have said more, yelled more threats, but a flash of some strange emotion from Childermass made him pause. It was a burst of...surprise...incredulity? 

He looked quickly at Childermass’ face and saw that his eyes had gone wide. Not with fear, as one would assume from having a wicked fairy pressing a blade to one’s neck, but with shock. 

“Mr. Segundus,” Childermass whispered, rolling his eyes sideways, not daring to move his head and risk being cut further by the Lady’s knife point. “Have you perchance heard the students at Starecross spreading a fanciful rumor that I am descended from the Raven King?”

Segundus was confused. “Yes, I have. I found it quite ridiculous,” he said, remembering the wide eyed students, rushing to tell him their exciting news. At the time, he had sent them away with a gentle admonishment not to spread rumors and had mostly forgotten about it since. 

“I did as well, Childermass replied. “They spread the rumor because I am the one who started it.” 

Segundus felt his confusion deepen. Meanwhile the fairy duchess had stepped back, her mouth hanging open, her own eyes wide with what looked like slowly dawning comprehension. Thankfully she also removed the knife from Childermass’ neck. Segundus felt a flood of relief wash through him, making it harder to concentrate on what Childermass was saying. 

“They were acting up one day, the students, and I told them to behave, for I was the son of the Raven King, that he wed my mother in secret and disappeared before I was born. And if they did not stop messing about, I would haunt their dreams at night. It straightened them right out, and it gave me a chuckle,” he said, with a sly grin, though Segundus could practically feel his heart pounding with strong emotion. That was Childermass’ way. His life was in danger and he sounded as if he were chatting over tea. 

“But Childermass...I am unsure what you mean…” Segundus felt as if there was some missing piece to this puzzle he sorely needed to hear. His mind was reeling with confusion. 

“I told them that story Mr. Segundus sir,” Childermass continued, “because it is the story my mother told to me, many times when I was but a wee lad.” The feeling of wonder coming to Segundus through their bond had increased, and Childermass turned, gleaming eyes to Segundus, and Segundus was surprised to see tears streaming down his face.

“Lies! Lies! You are a liar!” Screamed the Lady Lythotainia. She was slowly backing away from the two Englishmen and her knife clattered to the floor from her lax fingers. 

“He cannot mean what he says!” Prince Alder was looking back and forth between the duchess and Childermass, confusion and fear openly playing across his face. 

“I’ve done nothing but tell you what has been told to me,” Childermass growled, his voice rough with emotion. “My mother told me perhaps a thousand times that I was the son of the Raven King. She was a mad woman. A thief and a liar, and she taught me to be one for a time as well. When I grew old enough to doubt the truth of her wild tales, I stopped believing a word she said. And I never told another living soul. Not until I remarked upon it to the students as a prank.” He turned his eyes back to Segundus, looking a little desperate, perhaps for someone to tell him that what he was implying was not true.

Both of the fairies were now staring at Childermass as if he had just sprouted wings. Segundus could understand how they felt, for he too was staring at his friend in awe and bewilderment. 

Lythotainia was speaking again, and he forced himself to listen. “There was a prophecy once,” she was saying, in a voice gone reedy and high with shock, “it was told to me by a very raggedy Englishman who claimed that he could read my future.” 

“Vinculus,” whispered Childermass and he and Segundus shared a wide eyed look of surprise. 

“He wandered onto the fairy road one day, and I found him conversing with the Tree Wolves outside the brugh walls. I thought he was a madman, for he made several outlandish claims, and he smelled quite foul. He told me an unlikely prophecy, and I whipped him and sent him away.”

“What did he say?!” Segundus demanded. “What did he tell you?” 

Lythotainia took another faltering step backward, and her face had gone very white. She reached a hand up to her throat, as if she did not want to speak the words she would say next, and yet she could not seem to help but recite Vinculus’ prophecy to them. 

_There will come one day a prince to your brugh_

_And he shall have a hole in his chest_

_And his true love shall be tied to his hand_

_He shall place a new queen upon your throne_

_And cast shadows from your court_

_Upon his face shall be the mark of English rage_

_Yet in his heart shall be the Raven’s own blood_

She stopped speaking and cast a stricken look in Alder’s direction. 

“The mark of rage…” Childermass said softly, wondrously. 

“The scar from Lascelles’ knife,” Segundus said, feeling the surge of surprise and awe swelling to him through his bond to Childermass. 

“The bullet from Lady Pole’s gun,” Childermass whispered. They had locked eyes and Segundus could feel the fairy magic that bound them melt away like ice under a summer sun. 

“His true love shall be tied to his hand,” Childermass said, his voice going softer still and his eyes sliding down to the space between their hands, then back up to Segundus’ face. “Mr. Segundus…” he said. 

“I tried to tell you,” Segundus replied, his own voice cracking with the strength of his emotions. “I tried, but you did not believe me,” 

“ _Oh John_ ,” Childermass breathed, and Segundus felt his heart swell inside his chest as Childermass’ love came to him like warm honey through their marriage bond. 

“This is nonsense!” yelled Prince Alder. “Aunt, you have been taken in by the ramblings of one crazed old Englishman and a set of coincidences too outlandish to be considered. I am shocked at your gullibility.” 

“You fool!” snapped Lythotainia at her nephew. “Have you not ears to hear nor eyes to see? He is clearly the son of the Raven King, come to destroy our family and ruin our lineage by helping your sister to wed that scrawny English trollop!”

“Either way, he has caused us enough trouble,” growled Alder and he took a wicked looking blade from his belt and advanced on Childermass.

Before Segundus could even find the wherewithal to warn him, their ropes dissolved and Childermass was on his feet, his hand outstretched. Alder reached him and raised his knife, and Childermass uttered one, unintelligible word and Alder disappeared. 

A hissing sound at their feet made both men look down in time to see a black snake slither away into the shadows beneath the chairs where they had sat. 

Lythotainia let out a shriek of rage and threw herself at Childermass, who with a swift wave of his hand, turned her into a snake as well, a green one with a white belly that coiled, hissing and spitting on the floor before them. She too, perhaps knowing what was best for herself, even with her small, reptilian brain, slithered off into the shadows and disappeared. 

Childermass immediately stepped up close to Segundus and took his face in his warm, calloused hands. “Are you hurt?” he asked, gently stroking Segundu’s cheekbones with his thumbs, his eyes searching Segundus’ face with urgency.

“No, I am unharmed,” Segundus responded, suddenly quite breathless at Childermass’ nearness and his careful touches. “Your neck,” he said, reaching a tentative hand to where Childermass had been cut by the duchess’ blade.

“It is nothing,” replied Childermass with a small smile, and then he pulled Segundus into his embrace and hugged him quite fiercely. Segundus felt his breath half squeezed out of him as Childermass’ arms tightened around his waist. “I would not have let them abuse you,” Childermass mumbled into Segundus’ neck, where his face was currently buried. “I’d have died defending you if need be.” 

“I’d have done the same,” Segundus said, feeling tears filling his eyes and hugging Childermass back just as fiercely. “I cannot bear the thought of life without you.” 

Childermass pulled back to look very fondly into Segundus’ eyes. “My true love, tied to my hand,” he repeated, as a rush of wonder and affection spilled into Segundus from where they were connected. And then they were kissing. Segundus let out a soft helpless sigh as he felt Childermass' lips upon his, and melted into the other man’s warm embrace. The mix of emotions flowing between them surged into a rushing river of deep love and bubbling happiness and for quite some time, they simply kissed, slowly and tenderly, enjoying the ebb and flow of sensation and the feel of their lips sliding so softly together. Childermass’ hands smoothed their way up Segundus’ back and Segundus’ fingers found their way into Childermass’ hair. 

After some deliriously happy minutes had passed, Segundus pulled back with a gasp. “The ladies!” he said, suddenly remembering where they were and what had happened leading up to their capture. “We must find them!”

Childermass nodded urgently and they clasped hands, and together unlocked the door of the small room where they’d been kept, stepping out into the hallway. After rushing down twilit passages for a short while, they ran headlong into Cecilia, Adreana and Rosalind, who were clearly also looking for them. 

There was much hugging and many questions about everyone’s welfare, and it turned out that the ladies had been similarly bound by ropes and magic and put aside for Alder and Lythotainia to deal with once they had dispatched Childermass. Fortunately, Adreana was more than a match for her brother’s and aunt’s scheming and had broken their bonds after a bit of a struggle (with the help of a knife she kept hin her boot). After this, they had not known where to find Childermass and Segundus and had grown quite worried for their safety.

“I am glad you were not harmed,” Cecilia said, grinning broadly at the men, then looking down at where their hands were clasped, her grin grew even wider. “And it seems you have sorted some things out between you, yes?” Her eyes sparkled with mischief. 

Segundus smiled and cast his eyes down shyly at the floor and felt Childermass squeeze his hand. “Yes, we have,” he replied. 

“And what of Alder and Lythotainia?” Adreana asked. “I would not shed a tear if you saw fit to kill them in your own defense.”

“No my lady,” Childermass replied with a small bow of his head. “I turned them into serpents. I thought it would be quite fitting a punishment. You may feel free to turn them back if you so wish.” Segundus noted that he did not mention the talk of his relation to the Raven King.

“Perhaps I shall,” replied Adreana, a stern look coming over her features. “Or perhaps I shall let them crawl around on their bellies for a few decades, avoiding the sharp heeled boots of the people they once tried to control and manipulate. We shall see how I feel in a few years.” 

Later, once they had all rested and had had a chance to talk over their situation, it was decided that Cecilia would indeed wed Adreana as they both so sorely wished to do, and that the fairy kingdom would be ruled by two queens from this day forth. Adreana and Cecilia both grudgingly agreed to the plan to tell Cecilia’s parents that she had been taken on by a wealthy patroness as a lady’s maid, so that Cecilia could visit home now and then. Adreana made several very suggestive comments about the things she planned on requesting Cecilia’s help with if Cecilia were indeed to become her lady in waiting, and Cecilia blushed prettily and threw her arms around Adreana’s neck and kissed her quite soundly. Segundus grinned at their happiness and caught Childermass’ eyes. He saw a promising heat reflected there, and felt himself go warm and tingly from the top of his head to the tips of his toes.

Rosalind was overjoyed that Cecilia had agreed to come home for regular visits, and together, the sisters concocted a believable story about how they had indeed stepped onto a fairy road and traveled for some time, which led them to a city near Scarborough by the sea. And it was there that Cecilia met this mysterious patroness, who coincidentally had lost a daughter to illness and wished to lavish all of her fortunes and attentions upon Cecilia. It was a strange tale, but it would have to do. They would say that the lady was very reclusive (though kindly) and that she would not wish visitors to come to her estate, but that Cecilia would visit home regularly. 

“I feel I owe you an apology,” Rosalind said to Lady Adreana, once the plans had been settled. “I have behaved abominably toward you out of fear and ignorance. Will you forgive me? For I would very much like to call you sister.” 

Adreana pulled Rosalind into a fierce embrace. “All is well sister, there is nothing to forgive,” she said, and Rosalind got a bit weepy in response. 

It was decided that the wedding would be held once Cecilia had returned home to reassure her family that she was well and to pack her belongings. Cecilia, for all her rashness and impatience, did not want to rush her way through a ceremony of such importance, nor did she want her aunt and uncle or her parents to worry over her for much longer. She promised to return in a week’s time, and she kissed Lady Adreana goodbye in a manner that made everyone else look away tactfully with how ardently they embraced one another.

Soon, the four travelers were on their way back to York, with solemn promises from Adreana that their trip home would take far shorter than their trip there, for no one would be mucking about with their route this time. 

True to her word, they arrived at the entrance to the fairy road in only a few hours and were at High Petergate by suppertime. Childermass and Segundus wished the ladies a fond farewell and promised to come to their wedding in a weeks’ time. It was discovered that they had returned upon a Sunday and so they made plans to meet again, mid day on Sunday next for the ceremony. 

“Perhaps,” said Cecilia, with a now familiar, mischievous grin, “it should be a double wedding?”

Segundus felt himself blush. Childermass (in a rare display of being caught off guard) blushed as well. They looked at one another. 

“I think that is something that Mr. Segundus and myself will talk about in private,” Childermass said, frowning slightly. Segundus, for whom the thought of marrying Childermass made him incredibly happy, felt his hopes sag and his spirit dampen at Childermass’ rather reserved response. 

They finished their goodbyes and turned their horses away, toward Starecross Hall. Segundus wished to see his friend Honeyfoot, but he thought this once, he would let him and his family have a reunion with his nieces in private, for he was frightfully tired and very travel weary and had no energy to answer the barrage of questions Honeyfoot would likely lob at him. He wished nothing more than to be within the familiar walls of Starecross. 

He and Childermass rode side by side in silence for perhaps half an hour before Childermass spoke up. “I did not wish to discuss the future of our...connexion with the ladies present,” he said, his voice low and careful. “I am unaccustomed to such openness of feeling in front of an audience.”

Segundus felt hope bloom again inside his chest and his eyes shot to Childermass’ face, finding the other man looking at him and smiling softly. 

“Would you...would you wish to...marry me? In a fairy court?” Segundus asked, bracing himself for a rejection, preparing to guard his heart against the pain should Childermass find such a thing unnecessary or silly, or worse, distasteful. 

“Are you asking for my hand in marriage Mr. Segundus?” Childermass’ mouth had tilted up into his familiar, one sided grin, and Segundus felt a flash of anguished exasperation. This was a thing that meant very much to him, and Childermass clearly thought of it as a joke.

“Do not tease me so!” Segundus cried, feeling tears spring to his eyes and hating that he was so easily unsettled. “You must know how much I adore you! Do not play with my feelings thusly sir!” 

Childermass’ face grew serious, and he immediately turned Brewer and led them off the road and a little way into the trees, out of sight of any chance travelers before dismounting and walking over to look up at Segundus. Segundus, who still sat stubbornly upon Absalom, refusing to look at him. 

“Come down,” Childermass said, his voice very gentle indeed, and Segundus risked looking at him. He saw a pair of very dark, very earnest eyes looking up at him, and so he had no choice but to dismount as well. They stood for a moment, regarding each other, before Childermass reached out and took Segundus’ hand. 

“Forgive me,” he said, holding Segundus’ hand in his like a precious keepsake and looking intently into his eyes. “I forget that sometimes my words are not as soft as they should be.” 

Segundus, nodded, suddenly speechless. He was then further robbed of his ability to speak or even to think clearly, when Childermass, keeping his eyes locked to Segundus’ sank to one knee on the leafy forest floor. 

“John,” he said, his voice all seriousness now, without a hint of it’s earlier lightness. “John, would you please marry me? For I love you deeply and it would make me so very happy if you said yes.” 

Segundus somehow found the wherewithal to respond. “Y-yes, yes of course.” His heart was leaping in his chest and his pulse pounding in his ears so much so that he was barely able to hear the words that came out of his own mouth. “Yes,” he repeated as he gazed down into Childermass’ smiling face. “Yes John, I will.” 

And then Childermass was rising up and wrapping Segundus in his arms, and kissing him so fiercely that Segundus found himself quite unable to do anything but cling to him and kiss him back. Childermass guided Segundus backward until he was pressed against a nearby tree trunk and deepened the kiss, and Segundus wrapped his arms tightly around Childermass’ neck and did his very best to press as much of himself against Childermass as possible. It was only when he was making very eager and very rough noises and Childermass had begun thrusting himself against Segundus in the most extremely pleasing way that Childermass came to his senses and pulled back, gasping. “You make me wild with your kisses,” he growled, staring hungrily at Segundus’ open, panting mouth. “But we are on the side of a public road, and I believe we are awaited back at Starecross Hall.” 

“I do not care,” Segundus said, breathless and dizzy and very much wanting to return to the activity at hand. “Make love to me here, under the trees. No one will know.”

Childermass looked for a moment as if he would do just that. He leaned in, as if to kiss Segundus again, but then he got control over himself and closed his eyes, breathing deeply for a moment, while they rested their foreheads together. “Have you lain with a man before?” He asked, fixing Segundus with a frank look. 

“No,” Segundus replied softly, looking away from Childermass’ eyes, feeling a small pang of embarrassment over admitting his virginity. 

“Then I will not have your first time be out in the woods, upon the ground,” said Childermass with a sly grin. “I shall make love to you only once we are married in the fairy court, and only upon a very soft bed, behind a very securely locked door, where I may take my time and make sure to do it thoroughly and well.” 

Segundus’ rather vivid imagination conjured up quite a few compelling images of what exactly Childermass meant by the words ‘thoroughly and well’, and his knees buckled a little. And then they were obliged to kiss some more. By the time Childermass pulled away again and insisted they get back upon their horses and ride home, both of them were stiff and throbbing with want. Segundus tried his best to keep Childermass from leaving his embrace, but had to give up when the other man would not budge on his promise and pulled himself regretfully from Segundus’ arms. 

“You are a beautiful flower my darling John. I’ll not have you out among the insects and the dirt. Calm yourself and get back upon your horse,” Childermass smiled indulgently at Segundus, who frowned back at him.

Eventually, After midnight, they rode back across the packhorse bridge and into the stables at Starecross. Now, this close to home, they had to be careful, and did not indulge in any more kisses and touches. And besides that, their exhaustion made such a thing easier to accomplish, for they were very tired indeed. They unsaddled and brushed down the horses, gave each other a quick, chaste peck upon the lips and retired to their own rooms. Segundus kept his eyes locked to Childermass’ as he slowly closed his bedroom door between them, not wanting to let the other man out of his sight. Then he got into his nightdress and fell into bed and was asleep almost before his head hit the pillow.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: large amounts of fluff

The week between when they returned home to Starecross and when they were due back in the fairy brugh to be officially married was one of the longest, and yet also most enjoyable weeks of Segundus’ life. Everything seemed different and familiar all at once. Before he’d left for their journey, he’d believed that he’d never known love, and now, he was so deeply in love that he struggled on an hourly basis to concentrate on his work and keep his mind off of thoughts of John Childermass. 

Segundus knew now, now that he could look back on his feelings with the eyes of a man prepared to face them openly and honestly, that he’d loved Childermass for far longer than he’d wanted to admit before they took their journey. That shivering, unraveling feeling he’d felt whenever Childermass looked at him, it had been the blushing, uncertain symptoms of that burgeoning love. He had simply not recognized it, nor had he wanted to bring it to light, had wished to push it away, because of all the painful things Childermass had represented, and because he could not for the life of him imagine Childermass loving him back. Now that he was finished denying his feelings, they surged inside him like a bonfire. And to know that he was _indeed_ loved back, ardently and surely… it was beyond his wildest dreams. 

And then there was the matter of Childermass’ heritage to consider. Segundus was about to become son in law to the founder of English magic and the once King of the lands of the north. His husband to be was the son of the Raven King, or at least, all signs pointed to this being the case, and such a fact, once Segundus truly believed it, made him feel a tumultuous mix of feelings; joy and apprehension and confusion. This, he realized, was likely nothing compared to what Childermass himself must be going through, learning that his beloved King was also his father. But if Childermass was unsettled by this fact, he did not shew it. He simply went about his business as usual. He helped with the instructing of the students, he worked with Segundus to study Vinculus’ skin and to slowly, laboriously translate the words that scrawled themselves across the man’s arms and legs, chest and belly. 

They asked Vinculus if he remembered speaking to the fairy Duchess, receiving a beating, giving her a strange prophecy about the Raven King. He said he had no memory of such things, but then admitted that he had lost a few years of memories to a particularly hard spate of drinking a while back, and so could not be responsible for adequately recalling some past experiences. This was very much in line with Vinculus’ normal way of behaving, being that drinking to unbelievable excess was a thing that ran in his family, and had quite possibly led to his becoming a book in the first place.

Immediately learning that Rosalind was home safe, Hadley-Bright took off on his horse to High Petergate to see her. It seemed there might be three weddings in the works by the end of the week, for he had a very determined look in his eyes as he mounted up and rode away. 

Childermass and Segundus spent every night of the seven staying up late together in the Starecross library, studying the bond they now shared and taking notes on its abilities and limitations. They learned some very fascinating and promising things. One of which being that if they held hands and Segundus looked at the page of a book, Childermass could make out some of the words on the page, could see them through Segundus’ eyes, and vice versa. The images were blurry and inconsistent, but they spoke of powers imbued to them through the bond that were quite extensive indeed. They could not yet read one another’s thoughts, a fact that Segundus was glad of, for at the moment, his featured many images of Childermass in compromising positions and in varying states of undress. 

Once, when they were quite certain that everyone was in bed and that they were not being observed, they held hands and kissed. The swell of heightened pleasurable sensations that washed through them both left them breathless. The explosion of lust had them swiftly letting go of each other’s hands for fear they would lose all sense of precaution and attempt to divest the other of his clothing right there in the library. 

This sort of intimate exploration of their bond was firmly put aside for the time being. It was too dangerous to be overcome by a wave of ardor inside Starecross Hall. After the wedding, when they returned home again, they would work out how best to spend evenings together in secret, but now, before the wedding, with Childermass still sticking to his promise of keeping his hands to himself, and Segundus grudgingly going along with it, it was still too risky. 

  
  


In the meantime, they talked and talked. About everything. Childermass regaled Segundus with stories of his days as a pickpocket, of his time out on the ocean, and of his service to Mr. Norrell. He told Segundus of the ways in which he and Norrell had grown close over the many years of their association, but also, the ways Norrell had hurt him, disrespected him and betrayed him. How he’d sworn to be no one’s servant from the day Norrell and Strange disappeared. Segundus listened to all of what his love said, absorbing the information eagerly, for within these stories, some funny, some sad, some rather saucy, he was able to piece together more of Childermass’ history. By doing this, he was able to learn more of Childermass’ heart. And what he’d learned, he liked very much indeed. He fell even more deeply in love with his husband to be over those short, seven days. 

For Segundus’ part, he told Childermass about his childhood. How his father had wished him to be a scholar of history and literature, and to yes, be a schoolmaster one day, but how he’d been heartbroken when Segundus had instead dedicated himself to a life of magic. Magic was not seen as something respectable for a young man to study, and yet, Segundus had been consumed by it from the youngest possible age. He had also been mocked and excluded for being small, for being pale and sickly. He was bullied relentlessly and would take to hiding in the woods surrounding his childhood home for hours, with nothing but a book in his hand and a small lunch pale. He told Childermass of how he had satisfied his father’s wishes by going to university, but that he had done abysmally at his work, almost failing all of his classes, only because he could not stop reading about magic. He had hoped with all his heart to understand and to do magic, and now, here he was, a practical magician, and quite an accomplished adventurer. 

Childermass’ eyes had gone soft upon hearing this, and he’d told Segundus that he’d have counted himself blessed to have a childhood friend like the magic-obsessed boy that Segundus had been when they were lads. He told Segundus that he was a man of great beauty and wisdom and talent, and then he’d squeezed Segundus by the hand so that he could feel for himself the truth of what Childermass said. That he was loved and wanted and just perfect the way he was.

Although the wait seemed interminable, soon enough the day had arrived. Childermass had sent word ahead as soon as they’d arrived at Stareross, that they too wished to marry, along with Cecilia and Adreana, in a joint ceremony. Adreana had written back, joyfully agreeing to that proposal. The letters were sent by magical means, and so there was no need to wait for a postman. They both packed their fine new clothing, along with some other things, and a plentiful amount of food for them to eat (for it was still not advisable to eat of fairy food if one wished to remain anchored firmly in the land of England) and set out at dawn for Strensall Road. 

It was simple enough to make up a story about visiting a far off bookseller to investigate the possibility of a heretofore undiscovered new book on magic, in a town near the seaside. Honeyfoot (now beyond happy at the safe return of his nieces) bid them a fond farewell from the door to Starecross as they rode away. 

Segundus was afire with nerves, and his stomach was continually full of fluttering butterflies. Childermass seemed more reserved, which at first worried Segundus, until they dismounted briefly, halfway to the fairy road to stretch their legs, and Childermass pulled Segundus into the trees and attacked him with urgent kisses. “I cannot wait to call you husband,” he whispered against Segundus’ lips before devouring his mouth again, wrapping Segundus up in his arms very tightly and sighing as he did so. Segundus wandered dazedly out from the trees a few moments later, mouth bruised, heart full and hair a mess, to mount up again, feeling as if he had been mauled by a very loving bear. 

Soon they were riding down the fairy road toward the brugh, casting longing looks at each other and grinning like fools. The horses stopped and blew nervously all of a sudden, and there was Wolf Sylvan, standing in the path. “It is good to see you again sirs,” he remarked, nodding his wolf head in a short bow. “Where are you traveling to this time?”

“We go to be wed,” said Segundus, trying and failing to hide a broad grin. 

“I thought you were _not_ mates,” remarked the wolf, cocking his head to the side in confusion. 

“We thought so too at the time,” Childermass replied with a smirk. ”But we were mistaken, and now we very much wish to be together.” 

“Ah,” remarked Sylvan, his pink, sap-covered tongue lolling from between his black teeth. “That is good then. I could not imagine why two people who cared so much for each other would not wish to be mates. I am glad you came to your senses.” 

The two men gave each other a soft, lingering look, until they were interrupted by the wolf. “Would you mind if... I and my pack attend your wedding?” he asked, bending to investigate an itch in his papery fur with his long nose in a move that looked suspiciously like shyness. 

“I see no reason why not,” Segundus said, looking quickly at Childermass to see that he approved. “The new queen shall be married this same day, and she seems quite kind and tolerant.”

“Thank you, replied Sylvan, giving them one of his toothy wolf smiles before turning on his hind paws and padding off into the forest again. They rode on, and now, they could see the shapes of the Tree Wolf pack loping along beside them, through the trees, keeping a respectful distance from the horses. This made Segundus even happier. 

The ceremony was a short one, but very lovely, the two couples stood under a bower in the great dining hall that was festooned with the loveliest and rarest of flowers. Childermass and Adreana both repeated the traditional royal bonding spell while holding hands with their would-be spouses, and then kissed their respective loves very gratefully. Now, Childermass could also sense the bond between their hands when he closed his eyes, just as Segundus had been able to. It was as if the fairy ceremony, a tradition they had not performed when they’d accidentally bonded themselves together in the forest, was a missing ingredient that secured their connexion and made it more solid and real to both of them. 

The wolves were graciously allowed entry to the brugh, after Childermass and Segundus vouched for them, and they were quite polite and well behaved. Some of the fairy folk were a little unsettled at having several Tree Bark wolves padding their way along the perimeter of the dining hall and nosing their way under tables looking for scraps, but no one caused a fuss, and the wolves were tolerated, even accepted. Several of the fairies even condescended to having a chat with some of the wolves, in a very friendly manner. 

After the wedding, much feasting took place. And much drinking. Childermass had remembered to bring a wineskin along with them, and he and Segundus ate of their plain, unenchanted English rations, while everyone else ate of the fairy food and drank fairy wine. It was a delightful evening, and it did Segundus’ heart good to see Cecilia and Adreana so flushed and happy. They stopped eating and drinking quie often to kiss and gaze into each other’s eyes and many toasts were made in their honor, and in he and Childermass’ honor. 

Childermass had still not told anyone else in the fairy court that he was a direct descendant of the Raven King. Segundus did not need to ask why this was. He knew Childermass would not want the Fae folk to see him as a potential ruler, or as someone who deserved special treatment or deference. It was not his way to seek acclaim for himself in this manner. And so it would remain their secret. 

Rosalind sat next to Segundus and enjoyed the ceremony very much (and gratefully shared some of their food with them). She informed them that her dear Mr. Hadley-Bright had indeed proposed when he’d visited her in High Petergate. Also that she had told him that she would only say yes upon his unconditional acceptance of his new sister in law’s bond with the fairy queen, for she could not bear to enter into a marriage with a man from whom she would be forced to keep such a large secret, or with a man who would strongly disagree of such a union. To her delight, he had readily agreed, and had been immediately fascinated by the tale of how Cecilia and Adreana had met and asked to hear all about his bride to be’s adventures in the fairy court. Magicians it seemed, were far more likely to accept things that other Englishmen could not comprehend. She did not however reveal that it would be a double marriage she was attending, nor of who it was that would be married along with her sister and Adreana, for that was Segundus and Childermass’ secret to keep. 

Hadley-Bright could not accompany her unfortunately. They’d told their aunt and uncle that they went to see Cecilia settled in her new position as lady’s maid, and for William to come along would not be appropriate without another chaperone, and another chaperone could not witness a fairy marriage of two women in a fairy court, and so she had come alone. She was glad to do it however, for to witness her sister, finally happy and at peace, a lovely wife at her side, Rosalind told them that it did her heart good. 

The evening slowly wound down and at last, Segundus found himself alone with his new husband in a very lushly appointed bedchamber. They had quite quickly divested themselves of their clothing and settled under the covers, arms around each other, kissing passionately. It was an unimaginable luxury to be allowed this privacy and comfort and to have the whole evening ahead of them to be close to one another. 

True to his word, Childermass took quite a bit of time and care in running his hands slowly and sensually over every inch of Segundus’ skin, and he followed the strokes of his fingertips with hot, wet kisses. Kisses to Segundus’ neck and chest, to his trembling belly, to his thighs and knees. He seemed intent on ignoring Segundus’ quite painfully erect cock, smirking with his one sided smile whenever Segundus gasped and thrust his hips up, seeking friction. It was clear that Childermas wished to torture him quite soundly before providing him with any relief. 

Eventually, Segundus couldn’t bear it any longer and decided to turn the tables. He rose up and flung Childermass down upon the mattress and straddled his waist, pinning his arms against the sheets. Childermass must have known (as Segundus well knew) that he was far stronger than Segundus, and that he could have quite easily freed himself, but he lay compliant and a bit surprised at this sudden change in position, looking up at his lover with a surprised sort of glee at the change in the proceedings. 

“Just because I have never lain with a man, does not mean I am content to sit still and be tortured by you dear sir,” Segundus said, proud of himself that his voice did not waver, for straddling Childermass had brought their cock stands in close proximity, and this was a very distracting sensation indeed. “Perhaps, since this is my first time in a bed with a naked man, you would allow me to do a little exploring?” he asked, pleased when Childermass, his eyes very dark, and his cheeks very flushed, nodded eagerly. 

Segundus then set about kissing Childermass’ neck and tasting the warm, softly furred plain of his chest, while Childermass made some very appreciative noises. Segundus grew curious and applied his tongue to the dark pink nub of one of Childermass’ nipples and was very pleased to hear his husband gasp and moan in response. Encouraged by this reaction, Segundus traveled lower, stroking his hands down Childermass’ arms and wriggling himself further down the man’s body, dragging his cock along Childermass’ upper thighs as he went. He covered Childermass’ rib cage and then his softly rounded belly with kisses, moaning into his love’s skin as he heard Childermass cry out softly with each sucking caress of his lips. It was intoxicating, this power he felt to bring his husband pleasure. To know that it was his body and his hands and his mouth that were slowly turning John Childermass into a gasping mess beneath him. 

When he had moved himself low enough to be in line with Childermass’ straining cock, he looked up at his love with a question in his eyes, only to see Childermass looking back at him, his face flushed, his lips parted, his eyes, two dark pools of lust. At that point, Childermass lifted his hips up just a little in a blatant invitation, and so Segundus set about exploring this very intriguing part of his love's body. He wrapped a gentle hand around Childermass’ base and heard a soft moan from above him. He tentatively licked at the head of Childermass’ cock, tasting the salty wetness there and was rewarded with a sharp inhalation of breath. Summoning his courage, Segundus pushed the head past his lips and sucked as much of Childermass into his mouth as he could. He closed his eyes to better concentrate on the taste and feel of the experience, and felt a pair of hands fly to his hair and eager fingers clench there. 

“Oh _god!_ ” Childermass exclaimed, quite loudly, and Segundus was for perhaps the tenth time that evening, very glad that they were safe in the wedding suite of a fairy brugh and not back in Starecross Hall. He sank himself down onto the heated, throbbing shaft of Childermass’ prick and worked his tongue experimentally along that rigid length as felt the hands in his hair tighten to a pleasurable degree. 

“You...you cannot continue in this fashion much longer,” Childermass remarked in a rough voice, and Segundus opened his eyes and looked up at him. “Oh fuck,” Childermass exclaimed softly. “Do not look at me so. _Fuck, John_.” 

Segundus, pleased that his ministrations had caused such an urgent state of affairs, pulled up and off of Childermass and climbed up to lay beside him. There they continued kissing until Childermass rolled over on top of Segundus and pressed him into the mattress with a slow roll of his hips. “What is it that you would like my love?” he asked. “I would wish for this to be as enjoyable for you as possible, so please tell me what it is you want.”

Segundus grew shy, but he had some idea of what he would like Childermass to do with him. “I know that I am not ready for you to, erm...penetrate me,” he said, blushing furiously. 

“That is all well and good,” Childermass replied with a warm smile while stroking Segundu’s cheek with a fingertip. “There is much preparation and much communication that would happen before I would consider such a thing.” 

“Very well then,” Segundus continued, his voice growing more sure, “I wish you to put your mouth upon me. But…” and here he paused, unsure what exactly he wanted. “I...I very much liked putting my mouth upon you as well. I wish there was a way we could both do so at once.” 

Chilermass' smile went from warm and soft to wise and wicked. “Ah, my dear husband,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “That can be quite easily arranged.”

“Could it?” Segundus felt a sharp flush of arousal at the thought of giving and receiving such pleasure. 

Childermass did not speak further, instead he broke free from Segundus' embrace and turned himself about so that he now lay with his head in the opposite direction and his feet up near Segundus’ head. A bit of a readjustment and his thick cock was perfectly placed in front of Segundus’ face, and (most compellingly) Childermass’ hot breath could now be felt against Segundus’ straining prick. 

“Oh dear,” murmured Segundus. “I see now what you mean,” 

It did not take long at that point for them to work out a very enjoyable exchange. Segundus delighted in the distracting feel of Childermass’ hot, wet mouth upon him, in combination with the feel of Childermass’ cock sliding between his lips. He did his best to pleasure his husband, though truth be told, there were several times when he lost himself, stilled his movements and could do nothing but moan around Childermass’ slick, heated flesh as the sensations of Childermass’ mouth made him feel faint and weak. Then he would awaken to the feel of Childermass pick in his mouth and resume his work, which made his husband hum around his length in surprised pleasure, and the cycle began again. He felt himself pulled back and forth between dueling sensations that were both so extremely enjoyable as to be beyond belief. 

All too soon, sensed that he was close to his end and reached down to still Childermass with an urgent hand to his shoulder. Releasing Childermas from his mouth, he said that he wished to be close to him at the end, to share kisses and hold Childermass in his arms. Childermass eagerly complied, climbing to lie atop Segundus and kissing him quite soundly. Their cocks were spit-slick and with an experimental thrust of his hips, Childermass rubbed their bodies together, the feel of which made Segundus cry out sharply and grip him by the hips. “I could quite easily reach my peak this way,” he gasped against Childermass’ lips, and Childermass nodded his agreement. 

“Give me your hand,” he said and they interlaced the fingers of the hands that contained their matrimonial bond, pressed their palms together and fell to kissing again. The torrent of love and lust he felt spill through their connexion took Segundus’s breath away momentarily, and he heard Childermass gasp as he felt it too. With a rough cry, Childermass resumed his movements atop Segundus, and the resulting heat and friction, paired with the rush of lustful pleasure spilling through their marriage bond, had him racing to the edge of his restraint.

“I..I love you,” he stammered, the words stumbling from his lips upon waves of sensation, feeling small and a little hollow compared to the swell of feeling rushing through him. He felt himself fall over that edge and lose himself in a sudden twist of pleasure that hit him like a punch in the gut and whited out his vision with its power. 

“Oh god, I love you John,” He heard Childermass say in a broken rasp as he too succumbed to the combined sensations and spilled his seed with a low moan. Their shared bliss seemed to echo on and on for longer than Segundus thought such things ought to. Eventually though, he came floating back down to earth, almost surprised to be lying in a bed, in his new husband’s arms, rather than floating upon a cloud somewhere in the starry sky above.

They lay for a long time, entwined and warm and loose. Segundus was panting breathlessly and staring up at the bedchamber ceiling, feeling somewhat stunned, and Childermass was wrapped around him, breathing heavily into Segundus’ hair as he too calmed himself and let his heart rate return to normal. 

“I did not know it could feel this way,” Segundus remarked, when he at last felt he could speak again. “It is never like this when I bring myself off alone.” 

“No,” mumbled Childermas, his voice rumbling loudly next to Segundus’ ear. “No, it is not for me either. I have never felt a thing like that before in my life.” 

“It is the magic,” Segundus said, quite unnecessarily. “Do you think it will always be this way?”

“No,” replied Childermass, and Segundus frowned at his response. “I think it will only get better and stronger as time goes by,” Childermass continued. “I think this is nothing compared to the pleasure that awaits us in coming years.” He finished his thought by kissing Segundus’ ear and sighed as he nuzzled his face deeper into the junction of his husband’s neck and shoulder. Segundus’ frown melted away under the warmth of a broad smile. 

He pulled Childermass closer and sighed as well. “I’ve loved you for longer than I let on,” he admitted as he lazily stroked his fingertips up the wiry length of Childermass’ arm where it encircled his waist. 

“And I you,” Childermass replied, sounding very sleepy and happy. “You could not see it for you are a silly thing who worries far too much, but I was smitten from the very beginning.”

“I am not silly!” Segundus pretended to be angry, when on the inside he had never been happier. “You tell the truth?” he asked after a moment of silence. “You have loved me for a long time?”

“I did not know it was love at first,” Childermass replied. “I had desired other men before, and I thought that was all it was. Lust. But as the years went by, and I saw you now and then, saw your threadbare coat and your soft eyes and heard you laugh, I realized it was far more than lust. By the time I brought you Lady Pole’s finger, I was quite gone on you. This past year, listening to you talk about magic, watching you run the school. My feelings grew to the point where I had to work to hide them. I could not be sure you felt it too, and so I contented myself with looking only.” 

Segundus grinned from ear to ear at his husband’s words. “I thought for a while that I hated you,” he replied eventually. “You certainly gave me reason enough.” He felt Childermass’ indignant huff against his neck, and ignored him. “But it wasn’t hate. It was something else. Something that scared me, that I could not face just then, when all was tumult and confusion. Eventually though, as things settled down, and I grew to know you better, the feelings I had became clearer. Soon, I could barely stand to be in the room with you. I felt as if your eyes were pulling me apart.”

“I was certainly trying,” Childermass replied, and then he surged up and kissed Segundus again, very fiercely.

After that, they found that if they held hands they could quite quickly become inflamed again. It was a thing neither man, now both of somewhat advanced ages, had thought possible, and they took full advantage of it. In fact, they used their bond to reach their pleasure together a third time before they finally fell into an exhausted sleep, sometime near dawn. 

Segundus woke, a few hours later to feel Childermass curled around him, arms locked around his waist, breathing softly in his sleep against the back of Segundus’ neck, and smiled a smile of pure contentment. He finally had his dream. A true love. A companion for the rest of his days. He drifted off slowly back into a dreamless sleep, secure in the warmth of Childermass’ embrace. 


End file.
